


Okay, Short Stuff

by BumbleBeezer



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe, Blow Jobs, Breeding, Breeding Kink, Dubious Consent, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Found Family, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mildly Dubious Consent, Nesting, Oral Sex, Protective Mando, Rough Sex, Rutting, Sassy Reader, Shameless Smut, Slow Burn, Small reader, Vaginal Sex, buckle up y'all, clan dynamics? I wanna include them somehow uwu, eventually uwu, like...rough rough lol, low-key nesting anyway, maternal instincts babey, shes tiny but fierce!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-23 01:20:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 29,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23870050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BumbleBeezer/pseuds/BumbleBeezer
Summary: I noticed a lack of a/b/o mando stuff and I thought I'd take matters into my own hands 8)Omega reader outruns an alpha only to run (quite literally) into another one.
Relationships: Baby Yoda & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Original Female Character(s), The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/You
Comments: 322
Kudos: 1519





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you find any typos, let me know and I'll fix it right away! im ngl this is my first published fic uwu so please let me know what you think, constructive criticism is greatly welcomed!
> 
> edit: I had to reupload this chapter cause some of the styling had gotten SPLICED

Being an omega in a galaxy full of betas and, more pressingly, alphas, was…difficult at the least, and life-threatening at the most.It has its ups and downs, of course.Flirting with an alpha in order to haggle for lower prices was an advantage, but of course when they realized they weren’t actually going to mate you, let alone scent you, escaping them sometimes proved more trouble than the original discounts were worth. 

Being an _unmated_ omega, however?Take the strenuous everyday life of a mated omega and dial it up to ten, no, _eleven_.‘No’ _never_ means no to an alpha when you’re unmated, and spending heats alone is _beyond_ uncomfortable.Heat suppressants can help soothe the dull, empty pain they leave you with, but maker, what you wouldn’t give to be dicked down by a big, strong, protective alpha-

_No_ , you remind yourself.You better stop that thought in its tracks before it gets any more…stimulating.Lest a nearby alpha smells it.It may be too late, you realize, as you look over your shoulder and catch a glimpse of someone following you in the dark. _Fuck_ , you huff as you think to yourself.They’re certainly bigger than you.Not that that’s saying much, being an omega and all.But they’re bigger than most betas, and maybe even some alphas.Throwing another quick glance at your shoulder, you can make out the long horns of a male devaronian. _Fuck, fuck, fuck_.A fucking beta devaronian is hard enough to deal with, but an alpha devaronian?If he catches you, you’re practically done for. 

But he’s way bigger and bulkier than you, and most importantly, much slower than you.You’re smaller than him and certainly craftier, you could probably rush into an alleyway that his shoulders would be too broad for.Or you could hide somewhere he couldn’t fit into.Whatever you come up with, you better come up with it quickly.The towering devaronian has picked up the pace, and you can smell how eager he’s become.It makes you grimace. 

As suddenly as you can, you take off running.You catch him off guard, and it only gains a few seconds ahead of him, but a few seconds is all you need.You grin, the adrenaline kicking in, the distinctly omega-instincts of outrunning the alpha, of the chase.You slip into an alleyway, something you know in the back of your mind could doom you, should you choose poorly.Luckily for you, it’s no dead end.Unluckily for you, however, it’s barely wide enough to house the devaronian’s hulking shoulders, whose anger is flooding your senses.

Slipping out of the alleyway, you veer off to the left and throw another glance over your shoulder.He’s still behind you, but the alleyway has slowed him down considerably, as he’s had to maneuver his way out.You’re so focused on outrunning this brawny figure, head turned over your shoulder as you run, that you fail to notice the one in front of you until you’ve knocked right into his chest, hitting your head on his armor with a resounding “ _bom_ ” noise.The recoil sends you stumbling backwards and the sharp pain in your forehead distracts you from either of the men.A firm, leather-clad hand grasps your shoulder, saving you from falling backwards and splitting the back of your skull.He instinctively pushes you behind him, a growl rising in his throat at the devaronian.You cower behind your savior, whose hackles raise threateningly, and peek out from behind him at the horned figure. 

“I saw her first, tiny,” spits the devaronian, whom you’ve just noticed stands a whole head taller than your knight in shining beskar.“It didn’t look like she was too interested,” the mandalorian curtly replies.“Get out of here,” he growls out, the primal alpha anger practically radiating off of him.“And don’t let me catch you preying on a young, naive omega again,” he barks.

The devaronian sizes him up, and he must take note of the mandalorian’s entire set of armor being made entirely of beskar because he decides it isn’t worth the effort. Grumbling and cursing under his breath, he stalks away, muttering about how he doesn’t even want “that tiny omega bitch.” 

It’s a few moments before the mandalorian calms down, but once he does, he whips around so quickly it startles you.“What are you doing out so late at night? This no place for an unbounded omega.”Your mouth opens and closes like a fish gasping for air as you try to find an answer.He grabs you by your upper arm before you can think of something, and he drags you alongside him.“Where do you live? I’m going to escort you home.”Finally finding your voice, you wrench yourself out of his grasp, but you know you’re only out of his steel grip because he let you go.“I had it handled, I didn’t need your help, and I certainly don’t need a fucking _escort_ , Tin Can” you spit. 

His helmet tilts down to face you and you stare defiantly up into the pitch black t-visor, hoping to the maker that you’re meeting his gaze head-on.“Just because I’m an omega doesn’t mean I’m weak or-or incapable!”Your voice quivers with frustration.You swear, you may as well carry printed brochures that read ‘How To Interact With Me, An Unbonded and Unmated Omega’ to counter how often you deal with this kind of behavior.

He doesn’t answer you, and instead turns and walks away, woolen cape drifting behind him in the night’s cool air.Of course, you do the irrational thing and follow him, ready to bite his beskar-covered head off.“Do you hear me?Are you listening to me?”

He doesn’t answer your berating.Instead he asks where you live again.This time, it stops you.Fuck…How do you get home from here?Your confusion must be evident on your face, because the mandalorian sighs and shakes his head as he walks away.“I can take you to my ship, and you can try to find your way back in the morning.”Your defiance is back and you bristle for a moment, jogging to fall into pace beside him.“I’m not staying with you.I don’t know anything about you!I’m an unbonded omega and you’re an-“ 

You stop yourself before you actually accuse him of being an abusive, perverted alpha, but the ghost of what you were going to say hangs heavily in the silence that follows.He says nothing, but he stops walking and turns to give you a look you feel rather than see.“I’m an unbonded alpha.That doesn’t mean I’m going to make an advance on you.If you’re more comfortable finding your way home alone, be my guest.”His visor stays trained on your for a few more seconds before he’s briskly walking away from you.

_Fuck_.You bite your knuckle as you look around at your surroundings.You really don’t know where you are, or how to get back home.Not that there is much at home besides a simple cot and a few personal items.You look back at the mandalorian’s retreating figure, and swear under your breath as you jog to catch up with him.You’re panting when you catch up with him, and breathlessly you say, “Okay.I’ll come with you.But don’t try anything _funny_ , Tin Can.Otherwise, I’ll-I’ll-”You struggle to find a proper threat, and it sounds anything but threatening when you lamely finish with, “You’ll regret it.” 

He huffs out what sounds like a laugh.A chuckle, at the least.“Okay, short stuff.”You huff and pout a little, but it brings a light blush to your face nonetheless. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who left comments! And thank you for all the kudos too :.) I'm having a great time writing this fic, and I'm so glad someone is enjoying reading it just as much and I'm enjoying writing it!
> 
> See the end for mando'a translations.

The rest of the trek back to his ship is silent, as you really realize what you’ve agreed to do.You’re an unmated, unbonded omega.And you’re about to stay the night in some alpha’s ship.What if he tries something?You do your best to quell your anxiety, reminding yourself not to be hypocritical.You’re not a naive omega, and he’s not an alpha who would abuse your collective biology like that.You hope so, anyways.Truthfully, there’s not much for you to judge from.He told the devaronian off for chasing you, and he tried to escort you home.That seems gentlemanly enough, but alphas tell off other alphas in order to _appear_ gentlemanly, like, all the time!If this is just a ploy to kidnap you, then what?It’s not like anyone will notice you’re gone and try to come looking for you, and you definitely can’t fight your way outta this mandalorian’s grasp.I mean, you could try!Maker knows you’re scrappy enough, but scrappy can only get you so far when you’re up against a mandalorian wearing full beskar armor. 

You’re so wrapped up in your thoughts that you fail to notice you’ve arrived until the sound of the ramp lowering brings you back to reality. _Well_ , you think, _it’s definitely too late to turn back now._

You follow the mandalorian up the ramp of the ancient, and nearly decrepit Razor Crest, your heart hammering in your chest.He’s in a hurry compared to you, if the briskness of his step is anything to go off of.Mando disappears from your sight as he enters the ship, and you hurry up the ramp to follow him.Although you’ve made the decision to spend the night in his ship ( _a stupid decision, really; What would your mother say if she were here?_ ), you still don’t want him out of your line of sight just yet.You don’t know what you expect to see when you enter the ship, but you certainly aren’t expecting what awaits you.

The mandalorian is squatting on his heels, affectionately murmuring to one of the strangest little babies you’ve ever seen.He’s murmuring in another language, and while you can recognize it as Mando’a, you certainly can’t understand it. 

“Su cuy'gar ad'ika, rucuyir gar jate venjii Ni payt, hm?”The little creature chitters up at him, his little mouth opening in a wide grin.Mando picks him up and holds him with a kind of tenderness you’ve never associated with a mandalorian before.The child turns and notices you, his wide eyes blinking owlishly.Tin Can turns to face you and says, almost sheepily, “This is my foundling.” 

You take a step towards them, your confused expression softening when the child reaches his tiny arms out to you.You look up at Mando, silently asking permission to hold his strange, green baby.He pauses before gently handing the child to you, and you reach your arms out to meet him halfway. 

The child is still unsure about you, and it seems he asked for you to get a better look at you.Big brown eyes stare up at you as he coos.He glances back over at the mandalorian, as if to question your presence.The mandalorian doesn’t say anything-what would he even be able to say? _Son, this is some kid I invited over because I didn’t want her walking home alone in the dark and she’s so bad with direction, she couldn’t figure out how to get home in her own city._ The poor little womp rat would be even more confused than he is now, you figure. 

Having received nothing from his beskar-covered guardian, the child looks back up at you.“Hey little guy,” you murmur, shifting him in your arms to cradle him, your hand coming up to smooth back his wispy little hairs.“What a little _heartbreaker_ ,” you coo, face scrunching up as you make a silly face before grinning at him.The child’s questioning gaze instantly melts away, and he gives you a toothy grin not unlike the one he gave the mandalorian and giggles.He turns back to the mandalorian, still grinning, and coos. _Look at this new person!She made a funny face so we’re friends now_.

“What is he?” You ask, still looking down at the child.“I’m not sure,” he replies as he approaches the two of you.He takes in the sight: a young omega cradling his foundling close to her chest, cooing at him and making silly faces until he giggles, and he feels something stir within him.Your maternal instincts have kicked in.He’s not sure you’ve noticed it yet, but he can tell, he’s seen it before. 

He’s reminded of omega mandalorians at the covert latching onto foundlings and younglings, bonding almost instantly whether related by blood or not.Blood means almost nothing to mandalorians, and to see you sheltering his foundling, growing attached despite a bond of blood…it warms his heart, to say the very least. There's a stirring of something primal inside him as well, but he quells it before it can develop any further.

“He is in my care until I can find his species.”He reaches out to brush one of the child’s large ears, earning another toothy grin, before brushing past you.Your gaze follows him as he makes his way across the hold, gathering various supplies.Nutrition packets and ration bars, jellied bone broth and dried meats.He’s taking inventory, you realize, and you approach him as you bounce the little one in your arms.“Do you need any help?” You ask, looking up at him with wide eyes.

He turns to you and just…stares for a moment.Have you said something wrong?Has your offer offended him?He interrupts your anxious thoughts when he clears his throat and looks away, gruffly saying, “No, thank you.Watching over him is plenty.”You nod and retreat a bit, giving him space to work.You lower the little green baby to the floor of the Razor Crest, and you sit down facing him, entertaining him while Mando counts his dwindling supplies.

The child waddles over to you and reaches a tiny, three-clawed hand to paw at your face, inspecting it.You smile, your nose scrunching at the ticklish sensation.“Soft, isn’t it?” You ask him, giggling when he coos back at you in response.The child moves over your cheekbones, moving to inspect your nose.His wide eyes scrunch in confusion, and he looks over at the mandalorian, still busy taking inventory.He looks back at you and pats your nose, cooing curiously.

You throw your head back and laugh gleefully.“Not used to it, huh pal?Papa doesn’t look like this does he?”He coos and waddles away from you, making his way across the room towards a small silver ball.A sudden thought washes over you, and before you can stop yourself, you ask, “Does he stay in here alone all day?When you’re bounty hunting, I mean?You-you _are_ a bounty hunter, right?”Mando turns and meets your gaze.He sees your brows knitted with concern, and he’s grateful for the helmet as he flushes in embarrassment.“Yes, he is,” he slowly admits. 

You turn back to the child, who’s waddling his way back to you as quickly as his little feet can manage, excitedly waving the silver ball in his little clawed hand.“Poor thing,” you murmur.“Papa’s gone all day, and you have no mama to watch over you…”You quickly realize what you’ve said, and your gaze quickly shoots up to meet Mando’s.“N-not that, not that there’s anything wrong with single parents.Truly.I mean, the-the two parent dynamic is an outdated system, and it only works half the time anyways.What I mean to say is-“ the words come tumbling out of you and you decide to stop yourself before you dig yourself any deeper into this hole you’ve fallen into.

You’ve waited too long and missed your opportunity to apologize as the child’s in front of you once again, shoving what looks like a detached knob of a lever in your face.“Wow!How cool is that!” You coo to the child, feigning amazement at his precious silver ball.“So shiny!”The child squeals, absolutely thrilled that you’re just as excited about his treasure as he is.He turns to the mandalorian, waving the silver ball in his hand and squealing again. 

He waddles towards the mandalorian, little feet carrying him maybe half a foot before the mandalorian meets him halfway (well, much more than halfway, really), and scoops him up.He murmurs to the child in Mando’a again, voice as gentle flower petals.

You stay seated on the floor for a moment before rising and dusting your pants off.You approach them, eyes guiltily wide.“I’m sorry.For what I said earlier.He’s clearly very happy to have you as a Papa.”You offer a small, yet genuine smile, worried you've already ruined what little trust the mandalorian has had in you. 

“You can sleep in the spare cot,” he says, voice sharp and clipped.He swiftly turns, cape following him dramatically, leaving you standing in the hold as he ascends the ladder to the cockpit.Your only comfort is the child cooing at you before he disappears from your sight. 

You let out the breath you’ve been holding only when you hear the doors slide shut, and turn to find the spare cot on your own.

-

In the cockpit, Din leans his head against the back of the seat.The child is desperately fighting sleep in his bassinet, cooing up at him. _Papa_ , she’d called him. _Am I your papa?_ He silently asks his foundling, gently stroking one of his ears.The answer, of course, is yes.He knows this, in his heart of hearts.He’s looked into those big brown eyes of the child, his adiik, and said, _Ni kar'tayl gai sa’ad, ad’ika.I know your name as my child, little one._

Still, he worries.She had a point, as rude and blunt as she was.The child does spend more time alone than either he or Din would prefer.The evidence is as clear as day, especially when the child fights dearly needed sleep in an attempt to spend more time with his-his _papa_.The thoughts choke him up, of the child fighting sleep just to see him, and of him being something as paternal as a papa.

“Maybe she was right, womp rat,” he murmurs, watching his foundling submit to his much-needed rest.“Maybe you do need a Mama.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Su cuy'gar ad'ika, rucuyir gar jate venjii Ni payt  
> Hello little one, did you behave while I was gone


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another chapter! I hope it doesn't feel like filler...I'm trying to keep the chapter lengths consistent so one isnt huge and the following one is painfully short uwu

You spent the night tossing and turning, and not just because of the simple cot (really, though, the Tin Can oughta replace this threadbare mattress sometime, for the child’s sake at the least).No, the uncomfortable sleeping arrangement was the least of your discomfort.Your words endlessly replayed themselves in your head. _Papa’s gone all day_ , you’d said.What were you _thinking_!It was clearly evident that the mandalorian was fiercely protective over his foundling-he handled the child like it was made of glass.To even hint that his parenting style simply wasn’t good enough because it was just him?You’re half surprised you’re still on this cot at the moment, instead of finding your way home in the dark, having been kicked out by a grumpy beskar papa. 

You desperately wanted to make it up to him, to move past your blunder and start over.Not that it really mattered, you supposed.After all, it wasn’t like you were staying around for much longer.

You’re awoken by a gruff, modulated voice and a sturdy gloved hand shaking your shoulder.“Up and at ‘em, Short Stuff.”You groan and stretch, blearily blinking the sleep from your eyes. 

You sit up and meet the black t-visor of his helmet.He’s protectively holding the child close to his chest, and the sight causes a stirring in the pit of your stomach.You push it away, blaming the beginnings of your desire on an upcoming heat, although you weren’t due for weeks yet.“Good morning, Tin Can,” you mumble, wiping at your eyes and swinging your legs over the side of the bed.He says nothing as you stretch, just staring at you from behind the helmet as you arch your back in an attempt to rid yourself of the dull ache residing there.“You should invest in a new mattress,” you mutter as you stand, offering him a playful smile.“Your next guest would certainly appreciate it.” 

Mando only grunts at you, and your smile falters, bottom lip wobbling slightly.It falls eventually and you shift your eyes downcast, fiddling with your hands.“I really am sorry about what I said yesterday.It was-it was completely out of line.”You risk a glance up at him.“From what I’ve seen so far, you’re an excellent caretaker.”His gaze moves from your face, eyes wide and genuine, to lock gazes with the child, who coos at him curiously. 

“I need a favor,” he says, turning back to her.She brightens up, spine straightening, ready to help him.“Of course,” she insists, eyes ever earnest.“What do you need?”

The child coos at her and reaches his stubbly little arms out to her.Mando hands him over before you can even ask permission.“I need you to watch over him for me.” 

You look over at him, mouth forming a small ‘o’ in surprise.“Are you sure?”He nods, silently.“For how long?”His helmet tilts.“How long are you willing to stay?”You grin good-naturedly, turning your gaze to the child’s.“Are you offering me a job, Tin Can?”You can hear his slight huff of laughter.“That’s what I’m doing, Short Stuff.”

-

You spend the rest of the day marveling at your new quarters.Mando’s moved out some various odds and ends (mostly weapon parts and spare scraps used to repair the Razor Crest) from the room, giving you essentially an empty canvas to make your own.There’s a simple, well-worn dresser with four drawers and a humble little mirror speckled with age resting above it.There’s a crate full of food reserves in the corner, and another next to your cot, acting as a makeshift bedside table.To top it off, he’s given you not one, but two spare blankets and a simple pillow.It’s really not much, but it’s absolutely _perfect_. 

You sit on the floor, rolling the silver ball across the room, sending the little one squealing in delight as he chases after it.Once he grows bored of that, you sit him on your cot and play peek-a-boo, crouching out of his line of sight only to jump up and surprise him.His high pitched giggle is contagious, and by the time the day is over, you’re convinced you’ve made the right choice. 

Although you must admit, the logistics of your lodging may become…complicated.Despite the blossoming love you’re already developing for this green, wrinkly baby, you can’t ignore the worry you feel about being in such close quarters with an alpha.Clearly, the both of you are currently unbonded, which only serves to make things worse somehow.And when your heat finally does come…how will that work?You’re sure Mando can’t afford to cater to you once a month, dropping you off on some backwoods planet to ride it out by yourself.The thought makes you wince, and you briefly wonder if he’d be willing to agree to a friends with benefits situation.What an inappropriate thought.You’re his roommate, babysitter, and/or employee who happens to be an omega-you cannot go about entertaining thoughts like this about your beskar-covered boss. 

It’s a conversation that you’ll just have to wait to have with him.You know it must be on his mind too, and that thought is a little comforting, but not quite enough.You decide to push it out of your mind entirely, focusing instead on the child happily eating the spoonfuls of jellied bone broth you offer hm. 

His little lips smack and he coos at you between bites, mimicking conversation.You talk to him as if he can understand you (you’d read somewhere that it’s really beneficial for developing their linguistic skills), telling him about yourself and your experiences.You’re in the middle of telling the little one about the time you set a number of fathiers free in Canto Bight, and the chaos that ensued once their jockeys found out, when there’s a clanking sound outside. 

You abruptly stop talking, straining your ears to listen.The ramp of the Crest is lowering, and you grab the tiny blaster you’ve borrowed from Tin Can’s weaponry (it’s so small, you doubt he’ll even notice it’s missing) and grasp it in one hand.The child’s cooing has hushed too, as if he can sense a possible threat.You scoop him up to hold him against your chest with your other hand, aiming your blaster at the doors at the ramp.Absentmindedly, you lower your head to press a gentle kiss to the baby’s wrinkly little forehead. 

The doors open for the mandalorian as he pushes a bounty inside.His helmet turns to face you, his foundling hiding its face into the crook of your neck, your gaze and the aim of the blaster trained on the bounty.A wave of affection comes over him, and he roughly grabs the bounty’s forearm to drag him towards the carbon freezer as quickly as possible. 

“Is that the omega bitch keeping your bed warm?I was wondering what she’d look like, could smell her on you the seco-“ Mando’s demeanor immediately goes rigid, and he somehow finds himself even more aggressive towards the bounty.His gloved fist interrupts him with a sickening _crack_.The bounty snarls in both anger and agony, spitting out blood and a few teeth as he curses at the mandalorian. 

Tin Can drags him and roughly shoves him into the freezer, jamming his fist onto the button.The bounty’s curses are finally ended as he’s frozen into carbonite, and you lower your blaster, placing it on a nearby crate.“Are you alright?” He asks as he briskly walks over to them, one hand hovering over the child’s head while the other hovers over your shoulder.His voice is rough, and it sounds like it’s coming from behind clenched teeth. 

“I’m okay, Mando, we’re both okay.”You give him the calmest smile you can manage, trying to show how genuinely soothed you are by his presence. He remains unconvinced however, as his helmet moves from side to side, checking the both of you over.“I’m so sorry, I should have fucking gagged him before I brought him inside, I’ll start doing that from now on.I-”You cut him off, his distress coming off in waves, by gently grasping his forearm.The child coos and you lower him to the floor.

Both hands now free, you move his forearm so that his palm is facing upwards.Mando’s gone silent, tensely watching as you slowly peel the sleeve of his thermal undershirt up his arm until his wrist is exposed.You keep your eyes on his t-visor the entire time, moving as slowly and gently as possible.His helmet is trained on his now exposed wrist: as one hand gently cradles his gloved hand, the other slowly rubs the scent gland on his honey-brown skin, willing him to calm down.

He sucks in a breath at the contact, and he desperately hopes you can’t hear it, or at the least, don’t notice it.The intimacy of the act steals his breath away, and he finds his breathing evening out as you scent him, grounding him the way only an omega can. 

The way you’re looking up at him, eyes wide and genuine, with an encouraging smile.He tries to convince himself that it’s their biology talking, that his heart isn’t barrel rolling in his chest for any other reason.

It’s another moment until he comes down from this high, letting out his breath in a measured, slow exhale.He clears his throat, and you take your cue to release him.Hearing a coo at his feet, he looks down and sees the child beaming up at him, holding out his ‘uppy arms.’Mando obliges and bends to scoop him up.“Thank you,” he quietly grunts, helmet avoiding your gaze.“Of course,” you chirp (like it’s _nothing_ , like you haven’t just spent his thoughts into a crush-dazed spiral), spinning around and busying yourself with the food crates, pulling out two ration bars and pushing one of them into his hands. 

He takes a seat at the simple little table and you move to sit across from him, dried jerky in your other hand when you abruptly stop.“Oh!I’m sorry, I forgot.”You gesture to his helmet and make to leave when he grunts out a quiet, “Stay.”He clears his throat again.“Please.”

You turn, your eyes full of uncertainty, but you smile nonetheless after he nods and take a seat across from him.Sliding him the dried jerky (the child’s eyes lighting up at the sight of it). 

You chew on your ration bar while Mando feeds the little one little bits of the jerky. 

“So,” he says after a moment.“How was your day, Short Stuff?”

You scoff, hoping he sees you roll your eyes playfully.“Better than yours, Tin Can.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading <3 please let me know what you thought! What ya liked, what ya didn't like, and overall suggestions.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooowee pals 8) we're getting into it now

It’s later that night, after the baby falls asleep, when the dreaded conversation regarding your overarching biologies begins.To your slight surprise, it’s the mandalorian who brings it up first, right after he closes the baby’s crib. 

He clears his throat and you can tell what’s coming next: he keeps his gaze trained on the baby’s closed carriage, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.Has this man ever talked to an omega before?

“Short Stuff…I realize this situation might be…precarious for you.That bounty…when he-when he said that to you-“ He pauses, and finally turns to face you.“That’s going to happen again.My life is dangerous, and it’ll be more dangerous for you, unfortunately.And I know that at some point…my biology might-we might affect each other in ways we don’t mean to, and we’ll have to be ready to combat that.I just-I want you to be fully aware of what you’re getting into when you agree to work with me, Short Stuff.”

You can’t help the small smile that graces your features when he says you’re working with him, not for him.Together.Partners.Something about it makes your stomach flip, giddiness rising despite the seriousness of the conversation you’re having. 

“I understand, Mando.I don’t mind a little danger,” you tease, giving him a mischievous grin. 

He chuckles and his helmet drops forward a bit before facing you again. 

“Just…at any time if you feel uncomfortable because of me, or my bounties-I want you to tell me right away.I’ll drop everything and take you home.Any planet you want.I don’t-I don’t want you to feel I’m taking advantage of you or your biology.”

That wipes the grin right off of your face, and instead your lips make a little ‘o’ of surprise.You’re jealous of his beskar helmet for a moment as you feel yourself blush at his genuine concern for your wellbeing. 

“I-Of course.Thank-thank you, Mando.”

He manages a gruff “You’re welcome,” and brushes past you, back to business.“Do you need anything from your home?” He asks, looking over his shoulder at you.

“Oh! Yes, actually.”Your blush deepens just as it was beginning to fade and you bite your lip, looking away from his imposing gaze.“I, uh, I need my suppressants-“

The word has barely left his mouth before he’s shoved a bottle full of the small, round pills into your hands.You look up at him, impossibly warm, and open your mouth to ask when he simply says, “I picked some up for you while I was out.”

-

Needless to say, you were touched at his forethought for your wellbeing, and you accepted the suppressants with a stuttery, blushy “Thanks, Mando.”You’d also decided to swing by your meager living-space to retrieve some blankets, pillows, and personal toys-all necessary for your heats.An inevitable series of events you had yet to discuss. 

Ever the gentleman, the mandalorian insisted on escorting you and helping you carry most of your belongings back to the Crest, your new home. 

_Home_.The thought brings a smile to your face, so bright it hurts your cheekbones.You giddily tidy up your new quarters, assorting the many pillows and blankets onto your cot, hiding your personal toys (bottom draw, behind your clothes-no one will _ever_ think to look there).You’re even smiling like a fool when you pass the Tin Can on the way to bed, mumbling a little “Goodnight, Mando,” and receiving a quiet, “Sleep well, Short Stuff” in return.

If this is your new home, does that make the mandalorian and his strange green son your new family?You certainly hope so as you wake the child up the next morning, preparing a meal for him.Heating up the jellied bone broth, you empty a nutrition packet into it and stir, helping the baby sip at it once it’s cooled down enough.You’ve never watched over children before, but it all just feels so natural, like you’ve known how to take care of the green baby your whole life. 

You fall into a routine, sticking to the ration bars (preferring the slightly sweet, fruity ones to the bitter protein ones), you and the Tin Can each eating one for every meal, while preparing different little meals for the little one.It’s modest, and it’s almost not enough, but neither of you complain. 

It does get you thinking, however, about the last time the three of you had enjoyed a home-cooked meal.Mando’s most recent bounty gained a rather considerable reward, and you find yourself tempted to ask him to take you on a supply run.

He’s sitting at the crate-turned-table, cleaning one of his more intricate rifles, while you sit on the floor of the hold with the child in your arms.He’s had enough of ‘follow the silver ball’ and he isn’t in the mood for peek-a-boo, so you settle on telling him a story instead.You’re only halfway through ‘The Little Tooka’ before the little one falls asleep in your arms.You gaze down at him affectionately, unaware that the mandalorian is gazing at you from behind his helmet.He’s amazed at you, at your gentleness with the kid, and how you innately seem to know what he needs.He wants to tell you just how in awe he is of you, how the way you look at him can make his knees weak, of how content he feels when he sees you holding his foundling, of how _fulfilled_ he would feel to see youholding and tending to his youngling- _your_ youngling. 

Instead, he gruffly says, “You’re good with him.” 

You smile brightly up at him,standing slowly so as not to disturb the bundle in your arms.“I try my best,” you murmur, making your way towards the mandalorian as you gaze at the sleeping child.You reach the mandalorian and hand him the little bundle.You don’t know why you do, and he doesn’t know why he takes him from you, but neither of you question it-it just feels _right_.You rest your hand on his shoulder blade (the both of you silently reveling in the lack of armor, in the lack of a barrier), and the both of you quietly watch him sleep in Mando’s arms. 

-

Din won’t admit it, but he agrees to a supply run just to see your face light up.He has enough fuel, enough rations to last until the next couple of planets; he doesn’t need anything, but he’s more than willing to pretend he does just to wander this city’s marketplace with you.

You show the baby around, ‘oohing’ and ‘ahhing’ at everything with him.He really lights up when he sees a stuffed toy, handmade by an elderly woman who wistfully smiles at the three of you.When you pick up the soft, squishy little animal, the child squeals with delight and reaches for it, hugging it to his chest with glee. 

“How much?” You ask the elderly woman, digging in your pocket for the credits Mando had given you prior to leaving the ship.“Take it,” the woman insists, shooing your credits away when you protest.“You’re a lovely family, and your baby’s delight is payment enough.Take care of them, Mandalorian,” she warmly asks, moving to tend to another customer. 

You feel yourself blushing at her assumption, but neither you nor the mandalorian stop to correct her as you find yourselves rushed along to another vendor’s stall.You turn to grin at the mandalorian.“See that, Tin Can?I _told_ you he’s a little charmer!”You turn to scrunch your nose at the baby in your arms, as he waves his prize towards you.“I know!” You exclaim, responding to his coos.

The mandalorian’s gaze is trained on you, however, as you continue cooing to the child.It’s no wonder the woman mistook the three of you for a family, you look right at home in the motherly stance you’ve taken-Mando doesn’t think he could pry the child from your arms if he tried.He doesn’t mind, however.On the contrary, he’d carry everything you’ve ever _thought_ about picking up just to keep you from putting the child down. 

Apparently, he isn’t the only alpha who notices.Not that he’s surprised; an omega as pretty and nurturing as you would make even beta’s heads turn.He isn’t any less thrilled by it, though, and he feels himself puffing his chest out, trying his best to appear even more imposing (if that’s possible).He squares his shoulders, staring down anyone else who even _looks_ your way.His body language screams _Mine, back off_ , and for the most part it works.Some alphas just can’t be dissuaded, however. 

He’s big, not as big as Mando, but big enough to catch your attention as he, too, puffs out his chest, making his way towards you three.You notice, and you shrink into the Tin Can, who instinctively puts his arm around your shoulders, his grip only tightening when the offending alpha doesn’t get the hint (or chooses to simply ignore it). 

“What’s a pretty little omega like you doing with a baby as ugly as this?”He asks with a slight sneer.Glancing at the mandalorian, he continues, “Is that what he looks like under there?How the kriff did someone like that snag a lovely little thing like you?” 

By now, the mandalorian’s grip on your shoulder is iron-tight, and it takes you a moment to register that he’s trembling with rage beside you.It’s only when the other alpha reaches for you that either of you react. 

Immediately, you shelter the baby and cry out in agitation as the mandalorian makes a feral noise of outrage, swinging his fist and shattering the other alpha’s nose.The scuffle causes the crowd to part, giving them space to battle it out. 

You cradle the baby’s head, as he lets out a cry of concern, clutching his stuffed toy. The mandalorian grabs the offending alpha’s throat, throwing him to the ground.He spits something out in what you’ve come to understand as Mando’a: “Demagolka.”He spins on his feet and grabs your upper arm, dragging you along with him towards the ship.

-

He’s still seething by the time you reach the Razor Crest.Despite his irritation, he gently takes the baby from you, who coos in protest as his Papa closes his crib over him. 

Looking over you, he can see that you’re in distress, which only fuels the fire of his rage. He takes your shaking hands in his own, gloves long discarded, and pulls you towards him.He holds you close to him, the rough pads of his fingers caressing the scent glands just under your jawline.“It’s okay, mesh’la, I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” 

He murmurs to you, some in basic and some in mando’a, and it takes a few more moments to reach you.You breathe in deeply, reveling in the alpha’s scent.“Thanks, Tin Can,” you mutter, feeling yourself flush in embarrassment. 

He almost cries out when you pull away, desperate to hold onto you for longer, to make sure you’re completely okay before letting go of you. 

“Of course, Short Stuff,” he murmurs, fingers still absentmindedly rubbing the glands below your jawline. 

-

You wake in the middle of the night, after an evening of uneasy silence between yourself and the Mandalorian. 

Immediately, you can tell something isn’t right.There’s a pit in your stomach, the very beginnings of a burning starting to pool within you. _Kriff.No, no, no_ , you’re not due for another heat for _weeks_!You’ve been taking your suppressants on time every day, you’ve done everything right. 

_Oh, Kriff it all,_ you think as your head falls back against your pillow in frustration.The other alpha, Mando’s aggression, him scenting you-it all makes sense now. 

The mandalorian has accidentally triggered your next heat. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> demagolka-someone who commits atrocities


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOO BOY my longest chapter yet!!!!!!

He knows something is wrong when you approach him in the cockpit, he can see it in your eyes and in your body language, in the way you try to make yourself smaller. 

“M-mando?”He stands up, rushing to your side in the crowded cockpit.“What’s wrong, Short Stuff?Are you okay?”

You look up at him, eyes filled with tears of mortification.“Mando, my heat’s coming.”

His body goes rigid and his heart jumps into his throat.“How soon?Un-until it’s time?”You shrug, avoiding his gaze.“A-a couple of days or so.”

“Kriff,” he sighs, a gloved hand shooting up to grip his helmet.“Okay, okay.What do you want to do?”You shake your head, your voice wavering when you say, “I don’t know.I can ride it out b-but I don’t think I should stay here, o-on the Crest.”You bite your lip, looking up at him with your wide eyes. 

“That’s, that’s fair.”He’s quiet for a moment, thinking.Abruptly, he’s back in the pilot’s seat, setting coordinates for the fastest route he can think of.“Ever been to Sorgan?” He asks you from over his shoulder.

-

You watch as the ramp lowers, holding the baby in your arms. _How embarrassing_.Having to turn the entire ship around, because of an early heat.And even worse, the mandalorian was the one who triggered it.You doubt you’ll ever be able to look the Tin Can in the eyes-er-visor ever again. 

You kiss the baby’s little forehead more for yourself than for him as the mandalorian makes his introductions.You see him greet a mercenary, a rebel trooper judging by the looks of her, before he gently greets a few other villagers. 

“Short Stuff,” he says as he turns around to guide you down the ramp.“Let me introduce you to everyone.”

-

Omera seems lovely, really, and you’re almost positive you would get along with her much better if you weren’t so nerve-wracked about your surprise of a heat.Cara’s clearly an alpha, and Mando obviously trusts her.You make a mental note to ask about how they know each other as Omera guides you to the secluded cabin, her hand gently resting on your back.“I’ll go get you some blankets and some pillows,” she says with a warm smile.“That’s alright, Omera.I’ve got some of my own…Thank you, though.”She gives you a look of surprise but smiles and nods anyways.“Of course!Is there anything else you need?”You laugh tiredly as you inspect your temporary quarters and look over your shoulder, smiling cheekily at her.“You wouldn’t happen to have an unbonded alpha laying around, would ya?”

-

Mando always forgets how much he enjoys Sorgan.It’s quiet, it’s peaceful, and it’s beautiful.But most of all, it reminds him of the covert.Childrearing is communal here, and he can see everyone pitching in.The maternal instincts of the omegas intersecting perfectly with the protective instincts of the alphas, while the betas fit in wherever they feel most comfortable.Watching as Winta and the rest of the younglings play with his foundling, he lets himself wonder what it would be like to settle down here…The three of you…

His daydreams are interrupted when he sees you approaching him.“How is it, Short Stuff?Will it work?”You nod, smiling softly.“Yeah, of course.Everyone here is so generous and helpful…I feel like I can’t repay them.”The mandalorian shakes his head, turning to look at the younglings again.“Don’t worry about it, they owed me a favor anyways.” 

The two of you are silent for a moment before you bring yourself to ask, “Where are you staying?For the week, I mean.”His t-visor turns to you again.“I’m taking the kid and getting some work done.I’ll be back for you in a week, once your heat is over.”

He had expected you to be hurt by it, told himself that despite how much it would hurt it would be what’s best for the both of you, but nothing could have prepared him for your utterly crushed look.It twists his insides, and he knows deep down that it’s an innately _wrong_ idea in a way he can’t seem to explain.

Before you can stop yourself, you choke out, “You’re just going to leave me here?”You can feel your eyes watering and you blink in an attempt to blink the tears away.Instead, it sends fat tears cascading down your cheeks. 

The mandalorian rushes towards you, gloved hands wiping away the tears, and you sniffle, trying to look away.You’re already embarrassed enough about this whole situation, and pitifully crying at the mere _idea_ that the mandalorian is leaving you on this planet is certainly not helping.“I-I’m sorry, Tin Can, I know-“The mandalorian interrupts you.“ ** _No_**.No, cyar’ika, don’t apologize.I’m sorry,” he pulls you into his chest, resting his chin on your head while you sob into his chest, relieved.“I shouldn’t have-it was a stupid idea.I shouldn’t have even entertained it.I’ll stay.” 

You don’t even register the approaching footsteps until you hear Cara’s voice asking, “What’s wrong?Is she okay?”The two alphas surrounding you, each exuding concern while you’re so close to your heat is overstimulating, and you mewl against Mando’s chest. 

Mando makes no outward sign of noticing your mewling besides tightening his grip around you slightly.“I upset her,” he simply says, shame dousing his voice.You’re able to pull yourself together and you leave Mando’s embrace, wiping at your face indignantly.“I’m fine,” you grumpily insist with a pout.“It’s just the stupid kriffing hormones.” 

Cara visibly relaxes and nods at you.“I’m glad to hear that.”You return her nod, giving her a half-hearted smile, before announcing your need to “get some stuff from the Crest.” 

As you scamper away, Cara turns to Din.“What did you do?” She asks him lowly, dangerously.“I-I told her I would come back for her afterwards,” he mutters, face flushing underneath his helmet.Cara’s hand slaps the back of his helmet.“Din!” She scolds, voice lowered.“Of course that freaked her out!You’re her alpha and you’re going to leave her practically alone on a planet she’s never seen?To ride out her heat _alone_ , no less?” A growl rises in his throat.“It was a stupid idea, and I took it back as soon as I said it.”There’s a pause between them.“And I’m not _her_ alpha.” 

“Mhm.”Cara clearly remains unconvinced.“Well, you’re all she has right now.Don’t freak her out again,” she lightly scolds him before walking away. 

-

A day goes by, and your nesting process begins. 

You’ve taken your favorite blankets and pillows from the Razor Crest, arranging them as comfortingly as possible.Your…personal toys made especially for omegas in heat are stowed in the drawer of a bedside table in the little shack the village has provided you. 

Each night, the village feasts around a fire; there’s singing and dancing and laughing, and you feel unfriendly for staying in your shack, but you just can’t bring yourself to focus on anything other than what’s coming next.The mandalorian, ever the gentlemen, brings you something to eat every night.He all but force-feeds you twice as much as you would normally eat, insisting you eat half the portions of his food.You’re comforted by his consideration for you, but you’re still nervous, and Mando knows it. 

Heats spent alone are…uncomfortable, to put it lightly.It’s nothing that you can’t handle, but it’s certainly an unpleasant experience.It’s like trying to put out a fire that has engulfed an entire block with just a lone bucket of water.You’re almost considering asking around the village for someone to spend the heat with you, but it feels too inconsiderate of you, like you’d be asking for too much on top of too much.You decide to ride it out alone, though, you tell the mandalorian.Asking for more, especially when ‘more’ is a week-long tryst, is a debt you fear you cannot keep on your conscience.

Unbeknownst to you, however, the mandalorian will not stand for it. 

You have approximately one more night before your heat begins when the mandalorian storms into a hut filled with village-wide accepted authorities. 

“I need another favor.I need someone to get her through her heat.”He’s out of breath, riled up by this concern.The villagers look at each other before looking at him.Even Cara looks incredulous.“What are you all looking at?You all _know_ how painful heats can be when an omega is on their own.I’m not letting her go through that.”Beneath the helmet, he can feel that his face is flushed with anger, as if it’s the village’s collective fault that you’re going to endure the upcoming week without an alpha.

“Mando,” Omera gently starts, putting her hand on his forearm.“We all thought you were going to spend it with her.” 

He feels as if he’s been knocked to his feet. 

“You-what?”

Cara steps in.“Mando, you’ve spent the past two days giving her half of your share of food, and then some.That’s mating behavior.”

He’s now flushing for a different reason.He had been subconsciously getting you ready for your heat, _for how hard his inner alpha had planned on fucking you._

He stands frozen before each of them, covered head to toe yet feeling more vulnerable than anyone else in the room

“M-mating behavior?” 

Another villager pipes up, chiming in with, “You scent each other, to ground each other.”

Even Omera, someone who’s usually gentle when discussing sensitive subjects, says, “Anytime someone looks at her for longer than you like, even if it’s someone you trust, you puff up.” 

“Mando, how have you not noticed?” Cara asks, genuinely incredulous.She knew the mandalorian was oblivious, but not _this_ oblivious. 

“I-I’ve never had a mate before.I wouldn’t know it was-“

His voice feels small, smaller than it has since he was a child.

“Mating behavior,” he finishes, grimacing beneath the helmet.

There’s a silence, and Din hates it, almost finds himself choking in it.It’s a silence of pity; everyone knows that taking a mate, creating a soul bond, is amongst the most precious parts of an alpha and omega’s life alike.While it isn’t uncommon to have lost a mate, to have never had one…it makes everyone in the room suppress a gasp. 

He turns and leaves the hut, stomping out in shame, embarrassment, and…hurt.

Cara swiftly follows him, putting a hand on his pauldron covered shoulder.He shrugs it off with a growl, clearly not in the mood for any of this.“Mando-“ Cara persists, grabbing him more aggressively this time.Again, he shoves her off.“ _Din_ ,” she pleads, voice lowered.“Look at me.”

He trembles slightly, and pauses before turning to look at her.“You need to focus.She needs you.”He nods, gathering himself and draws himself to his full height.Cara clears her throat, drawing herself up as well.“Have you never…you know,” she begins.Din’s helmet tilts.“Been with an omega during their heat?” She finishes.“I said I’ve never had a mate, not that I’ve never spent a heat with someone” he deadpans. 

Cara claps him on the shoulder.“Alright then!So you’re qualified to help her!”She smiles smugly, like she’s single-handedly solved the problem. 

Din wracks his brain, looking for a substantial excuse as to why it cannot be him. _What if it ruins everything?What if she decides to leave afterwards? What if, what if, what if-_

Instead, he says, “I’m a mandalorian.I can’t just assist her during a heat.It’s too-“ he struggles to find the right word, “intimate.It’s difficult for us to…assist without forming a bond.”

Cara’s face twists in confusion.“But I thought you’ve been with other-“

“This is different,” Mando interrupts her.“She’s-she’s _different_.”

Cara nods.“Okay.Mando, I’m going to say something-alpha to alpha here.If you’re truly uncomfortable with assisting her, I’m…willing to help. But,” already, she can see Mando’s chest puffing out, his breaths quickening with the beginnings of primal possessiveness, “I don’t think you’re going to want me to do that.” 

Of course Cara’s right, _she usually is_ , he thinks begrudgingly.His voice is strained by the restraint he’s practicing.“It…should be one of us.I trust you to…take care of her.One of us should ask her what she’s more comfortable with.”

-

Cara agrees that Din should be the one to ask.The walk back to your hut is brisk, motivated.He knocks and enters once given permission to find you putting the finishing touches on your nest.The blankets are…ratty, to put it politely. There are holes in each and every one of them, and they’re anything but soft or cozy.Even the kriffing pillow is well-worn and threadbare.He feels the anger rising in him again.

“What are these?Is this what they gave you to nest with?Why isn’t there anything better for you to use?”He’s already turned on his heels to give the villagers a piece of his hormonal mind, a ratty cloak clenched tightly in his fist, when your touch stops him.You hold him back, saying, “It’s okay, Tin Can.They gave me things to nest with,” you gesture with your chin to a corner of the hut where a pile of considerably nicer blankets resides.“I-I wanted those,” you quietly admit, a blush creeping up your cheeks. 

It’s then that Mando realizes that these blankets, moth-eaten and neglected, have come from the Crest.Not just anywhere on the Crest, but his bunk. _You’ve nested using the blankets he sleeps with._

Mando calms down, his shoulders sinking with relief, and he gingerly hands the blanket back to you, muttering an apology towards your ruined nest.As you busy yourself rearranging the blanket back into the large bed, the mandalorian finally asks, “Are you sure you’ll be alright?Spending your heat alone?”He can remember growing up in the covert, when omegas spent their heats alone, locked in their bedrooms for their own protection, the wailing, the anguish.He’s no stranger to how painful heats can be spent on one’s own.

You look back at him from over your shoulder, nervousness swimming in your eyes behind the easygoing smile you display for him.“I’ll be alright. I’ve spent the last handful of heats alone, anyways.I’ll manage.”You turn back around, rearranging your nest despite knowing instinctively that it’s ready.“Besides, I doubt any other alphas in the village are bachelors, or are particularly willing to help and omega without mating them…or bonding them…”You try to play it off as a joke, but by the way your voice quivers and your words trail off, the mandalorian knows better. 

He sucks in a breath through his teeth at the mere _thought_ of someone else mating you.

Gaining his composure for what feels like the hundredth time this cycle, he says, “Cara has informed me that…she would be willing…to spend your heat with you…if you want.”

He waits for your answer as you consider it, terrified beneath the beskar.And you do consider it for a moment; Cara’s an attractive alpha, and the mandalorian trusts her, but…something about it just doesn’t feel right.You can’t seem to explain it, even to yourself.

Besides…you’ve gathered these blankets from the Crest for a reason.They smell like the Tin Can, they’ve been the only thing grounding you when you’re alone, while your mind is jumbled days before your heat. 

“Would you be comfortable with that?”

Your voice is small, minuscule even. 

The mandalorian is visibly taken aback by this response. “Why are you asking me?You don’t need my permission.This isn’t about me, it’s about you.Whatever’s best for you, Short Stuff.” 

You turn around to face him again, cheeks blushing. 

“I only ask because…you get territorial with me, Mando.”You can’t help the small smile that graces your features as you say this.

“I don’t-“ Mando begins.

“You do, Tin Can,” you interrupt.“But it’s okay.It’s just instinct.And…if I’m honest,” your gaze drifts away from his as you fidget with your hands.“It…comforts me.Makes me feel…safe.”

There’s a single beat of silence before you return your gaze to his, determine to get through this heat alone.“I don’t want it to be Cara.I don’t think she’d like the blankets smelling like another alpha, and I want them here.”

Even days (possibly even hours) before your heat, you’re still defiant as ever.The mandalorian pauses, taking a moment just to _marvel_ at you, before he finally asks:

“Do…do you want it to be me?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO SORRY, I KNOW YALL ARE READY FOR THE ACTION but i PROMISE it's coming after this chapter ;)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eat up, babies

You feel immediate relief, followed by immediate anxiety.For just a moment, you envy the mandalorian’s beskar helmet, knowing these emotions are making themselves well-known on your face.

“Mando, if you’re not comfortable with this, p-please don’t offer yourself up. I can’t-I can’t get my hopes up this close to my heat.A-and besides, your helmet, your Way-I can’t jeopardize that for you-“

You’re so preoccupied in your neurotic rambling that you don’t notice Mando until his hands are on your shoulders, thumbs rubbing comforting circles.“It’s okay, Short Stuff, it’s _okay_.I-I _want_ to help.” 

His voice is growing deeper, signaling the very beginnings of a heat-induced rut.Very slowly, Mando’s hands leave your shoulders as he removes his gloves.The rough pads of his bare fingers rub at your scent glands as he murmurs, “It’s okay, my little omega.I’ll take good care of you.” 

The combination of his words and his touch upon your scent glands this close to your heat is overstimulating, and you mewl for him, eyes closing in pleasure as you lean into his touch. 

“Please,” you implore, opening your eyes and gazing up at him from beneath your eyelashes.“Please stay with me, Mando.”

-

He’d alerted Cara and returned to the hut in record speed.Cara and Omera agree to take care of the child for the week, and arrangements for the delivery of enough food and water are quickly made. 

Your heat has arrived by the time the mandalorian returns to find you squirming in the nest you’ve built on the large cot.He can feel it too, as if it’s an electric current traveling in the space of the small hut. 

He quickly begins undressing, swiftly discarding his armor.As he discards his woolen undershirt you quickly snatch it up, snuggling against it and adding it to your nest.Burying your face in his it, you breathe him in, sending a wave of warmth throughout you.You’re so preoccupied with this treasure, you barely notice him crawling into your nest until his arms snake around you, holding your back to his chest. 

You squirm around to face him, whine at the contact and your rapidly rising temperature.Mando can feel it too, and he pulls your tunic over your head as you gaze dazedly up at him.He’s still wearing the helmet, and you gaze over his naked body while he undresses you.

His skin is bronze despite having never felt the sun against it, and littered with scars and burns, some large and some small.A lucid part of your mind makes a mental note to kiss each and every one of them before your heat is over.His muscles ripple beneath his skin, and you moan as you feel him against you, burying your face in the juncture of his neck and his shoulder, licking at his scent glands, earning a deep, modulated groan from beneath the helmet.

_Fuck, why is he still wearing the helmet.How is he going to bond you if he’s wearing the helmet?How will he bite you and mark you?_ You want to lament about it, but you’re soon distracted as his hands-how did you fail to notice how large they are-roam your skin.

He’s taking his time with you, marveling at how soft and smooth and _supple_ your skin is.“M-mando,” you whine, rubbing your thighs together. 

“Din,” he corrects you, caressing your cheek, gently rubbing your cheekbone with his thumb. 

“What?”You can feel the last of your lucidity slipping as you succumb to the primal urges of the heat. 

“My name.It’s Din.I want to hear you screaming my name while I fuck you through your heat, little omega.”

He surprises himself.It was an automatic response, he’s never told another omega his name before.But then again, this was different from the last heats he’s spent with the previous omegas he’s known.

You moan, throwing your head back, as you realize how intimate he’s being by sharing this with you.You murmur your own name to him, returning the favor, as you reach out your hands and caress every inch of him you can grab. 

“I’ve got you, little one, I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his hand traveling down to your neglected cunt.“Yes, alpha, yes, please-“ Your words break off into a choked moan as he spreads your swollen lips, assessing you before crawling over you. 

“Fuck, little one…you’re already soaked…”

He begins rubbing at your swollen clit, gently, barely there, _not enough_.“Is this all for me?” He asks sweetly, speeding up his actions as your whines grow louder, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.“Yes, alpha, yes, it’s all for you, all for you, every _inch_ of me-“ You’re distantly aware that you’re rambling but you can’t bring yourself to care, especially when one of Din’s fingers tentatively enters you.

You groan, tears springing to your eyes as you attempt to grind down onto it.“M-more, Din, _please_.”Your attempts to gain more than the single, slow finger sinking in and out of you are stopped as his other hand holds you down to the cot.He tsks teasingly, but he adds another finger, earning another moan.“So impatient, little omega.”You whine again, looking into his visor with pleading eyes.“ _N-need_ you, alpha!S-stop teasing me, _please_!”

He rests his forehead against you, the cool beskar soothing your burning forehead as his fingers speed up, curling and searching for the spot that’ll make you _sing_ for him.“Not teasing,” he grits out.He sounds restrained, and you know that he needs this, needs _you_ as badly as you need him.“G-gotta get you ready, little one.Don’t wanna hurt you.”

You groan again, lazily displaying your tongue to him as you grin cheekily through your ecstasy.“You can hurt me, Mando, I won’t mi-“You’re interrupted by your own wail of pleasure, eyes flying wide and wild.His thick, skilled fingers have found your spot, and he is now abusing it.“Din, don’t-don’t stop.Please, alpha don’t stop,I’ll-“

“Cum for me, cyar’ika, cum all over my hand.”His voice is deeper than usual; he’s finally slipped into his alpha-space, all lucidity and rationality replaced by primal and feral urges.You cum for him, of course.Spasming in your nest, you scream his name, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. 

By the time you come down from your brief high, he’s already guided the head of his cock to your entrance, having lubed himself up with your slick.He’s blunt and he’s big, bigger than any toy you’ve ever used, and he’s being a fucking _tease_ again, trailing the leaking head of his cock around your entrance.“Don’t close your eyes next time, omega.Wanna see the look in your eyes when you fall apart for me. _Are we understood_?”He asks this as he roughly grabs your chin in his other hand.You melt under it, under his iron grip, so ready to be submissive for him.“Yes, alpha,” you mewl.

He slaps your cheek lightly.“Good girl,” he praises, sinking into you in one languid thrust.You moan, deep and full, as your eyes roll to the back of your head.He grabs your chin again, thrusting in and out of you at a neutral pace.“Eyes on me, omega,” he growls, speeding up. 

He leans back, throwing your legs over his shoulder, and begins pounding into you.You lay back, crying out as his hands pull your hips down to meet his rough thrusts.Your slick is gushing by this point, and the sounds it makes as his cock splits you open are downright _obscene_. 

“ _Gonna take such good care of you, my little omega_.” 

You arch your back at this.“Yes, yes, _yours_ , Din, your omega.”

“Don’t stop,” he orders, breathless, his grip on your hips tightens, sure to leave bruises. 

You comply, throwing your head back and _wailing_ , hoping in the back of your mind that the other villagers can hear you.“Yours, Din, I’m yours, your omega, your little omega, yours to use, to breed, whenever you want, yours, yours, yours-“

He cums inside of you with a snarl, hips bucking as he coats the walls of your cunt with ropes of his release.There’s so _much_ of it, and you revel in it as it fills you, wonderfully warm and satisfying.

He stays inside of you, the base of his cock swelling with his knot, however, is just outside your pussy.You frown slightly when you realize it, looking down at your connected bodies to confirm your suspicions. 

“Din, please, your knot,” you look back up at him, pleading with him.“I need it, need it inside me.” 

Din groans, tilting his head back for a moment, before shaking his head and lowering his gaze back to yours.“It’s too big, little one.Didn’t want to hurt-“

He chokes off into a moan, gripping your sides in his iron-tight fists, as you grind against him, slowly forcing his knot into your _impossibly_ tight pussy.He’s seen his fair share of needy omegas, but none of them have ever _taken_ what they need from him like _this_.He growls again, resting his head beside your ear, suddenly more thankful than he’s ever been for the helmet covering his face, otherwise he would have mated you right then and there.Such a naughty little thing.

He doesn’t realize he’s said this out loud until he hears you giggling at him, coming down from your high, your omega-space.He’s slowly coming out of his alpha-space as well, and you both welcome the change of coherency, knowing it’s only moments before you enter your respective spaces again. 

Your hands roam his back, lightly scratching his skin comfortingly.Your hands hold onto his shoulder blades, nuzzling into him, you purr into his helmet: “Knot inside me next time.You officially have my permission.”

You’re going to be the death of him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;) i hope this satisfied u nasties lol 
> 
> also the next chapters also gonna be Straight Up Smut, and then we'll get some fluffy smut!!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i listened to the titanic soundtrack and got myself all kinds of fucked up writing this

It takes you a moment to realize you’ve woken up, and that you’re not still dreaming of a faceless man’s soft touch.It isn’t until he murmurs something in your ear that you realize you’re not sleeping, and maybe you’ve been awake for much longer, hazily reveling in Din’s featherlight kisses and caresses. 

You try to open your eyes only to realize you’ve been blindfolded, so instead you shift around a bit, stretching the sleep from your muscles.“Good morning, mesh’la.”

The sound of his gruff, organic voice is music to your ears, and it sends another wave of slick dripping between your thighs.“How long have you been waiting for me to wake up?” You look over your shoulder, as if you could see him behind the blindfold, as you ask, a teasing smile gracing your lips.“Mmh..” He responds, his lips barely leaving the soft skin of your shoulder.“Does it matter?” Another kiss.“I’d wait years for you, cyar’ika.” 

You sigh blissfully, turning to face him.You’re met with kisses peppered across your face.One for your nose, two for each cheek, three quick kisses in succession for your lips, another for your nose.You giggle at the attention, gently rubbing your nose against his rather prominent one (as you’ve come to realize through the last couple of days).

By now, you’ve reached the very end of your heat.Your lucidity and your omega-space have reached a more reasonable balance; the sex has been less needy, less about physical contact and more about…connection. 

You burrow your nose into his neck, reveling in his scent.“I’m going to miss this,” you admit softly into his skin.His breath catches, but he says nothing, wrapping his arms around you instead.You know he feels the same, even if he doesn’t say it out loud. 

Snuggling further into him, you feel his length, hard and leaking needly, against your bare thigh.You slip your palm down his chest, further, further, until you reach him, earning a deep groan.Silently, the two of you choose to ignore it in favor of the last passionate tryst of your heat. 

“Mmh…put your helmet back on,” you request into his skin.You can feel him frown, and he grumbles slightly as he shifts in order to comply.“Why’d you make me do that?”The modulated voice makes you shiver, and you eagerly remove your blindfold, blinking a couple of times to focus.“‘Cause!” You chirp, moving to straddle his hips.“I want you to look in my eyes,” you pause to press a kisses to his chest, each traveling lower and lower, “when I do this.”

True to your word, you look up into his black t-visor as you lick a stripe up his hard cock.He groans at the sensation, his helmet tipping back against the pillows.“M-mesh’la,” one of his hands fists the blankets beneath him while the other threads itself into your hair.“You, _ah_ , you don’t have to do this for-for me” he breaks off into a moan when you take him fully into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down. 

The noises the two of you are making are downright _obscene_ ; the slurping and gagging combined with his moaning and cursing.You can feel your slick beginning to drip down your thighs, and you slip a hand down between your legs to soothe your neglected clit.Din is cursing in Mando’a, and you understand absolutely none of it; however, the fact that you’ve brought him to this point, a rambling mess, elicits another moan out of you.

You release his cock with an indecent _pop_ , lazily stroking his length.“But I want to,” you coo, kissing the tip.“You’ve taken _such_ good care of me this past week,” you murmur, traveling back up his chest until you’re straddling him again.“Let me take care of you, _alpha_ ,” you whisper against his neck, licking at the scent glands residing there. 

He growls, lazily moving you against him, grinding his length against your wetness.“ _Please_ , omega, please, please,” he begs.You revel in it, in the fact that you’ve brought one of the most powerful men in the galaxy to _beg_ for you.“Yes alpha,” you murmur, finally sinking down onto him, taking the entirety of his length in one languid stroke. 

The two of you take your time with each other, sensing that this will indeed be the last encounter of your heat.You’re savoring each other, you both know it, but neither of you says it aloud.Instead, you say it in the way you lean down to kiss as many scars as you can, in the way that he gently caresses you, in the way you interlock your fingers, grounding each other.

Your final climaxes fall over you like a slow-moving wave, washing away everything but each other.You collapse against his chest, your cunt pulsing around his rapidly growing knot. 

Your chests are heaving against each other, his hands are threading through your dampened hair, and the two of you are silently mourning the loss of contact yet to come. 

“Fuck…” you murmur, snaking your arms around him.“How did I ever get through these without you?”You look up at him with a cheeky grin before returning to lay on his chest, tracing his various scars, trying to memorize them.You’d been teasing him somewhat, but he doesn’t give you so much as a chuckle. 

“You’ll never have to again, if you’d like,” he mumbles, eyes squeezed shut even beneath the helmet, half-hoping you won’t hear him.You look up at him, gazing with those wide, genuine eyes. _Fuck_ , you ruin him with those eyes.“As long as you’re working with me, I mean,” he quickly amends, a blush rising to his cheeks beneath the helmet.“I’m not-I’m not asking you to bond with me or-anything like that-“

You cut him off as you gently kiss his helmet, knowing exactly where his lips reside despite never having seen them.“I understood you, Din.”You smile gently at him, radiating nothing but contentment.“I’d…I’d really like that,” you whisper.

Only you could look this tender and sweet and genuine while you’re sitting on his fucking knot, your cunt leaking streams of your mixed essences. 

-

You’re silent as you separate from each other, as you tenderly wash each other off in the shower (although you were extremely tempted to ask if his helmet would rust), even as you begin getting dressed. 

“Oh, Short Stuff, wait-“ Din stops you right before you pull up a pair of panties.You look up at him curiously.“Yeah, Tin Can?”

In a final act of alpha-typical possessiveness, Din gently scoops the slick mix of cum dribbling out of your pussy, and brings his fingers up to your neck.You blush to your roots as he scents you with your mixed cum, only satisfied when the glands on your neck and your wrists have been thoroughly stained with the smell. 

“Couldn’t let the past week’s worth of scenting you go to waste from one shower,” he explains, voice smug and sure.

_Fuck_ , you think as he glides past you. _He’s…something else_. 

-

There’s scattered applause as the two of you emerge from the hut.Most of it is genuine, but you’re absolutely sure that Cara’s is mocking you, at least a little bit.“Congratulations,” Omera warmly greets, smiling cheerfully at the both of you. 

The warm greetings and well-wishes surround each of you, especially when Cara hands you the little green bundle.Din runs a finger along the baby’s large ear as you coo to him, telling him about how much you missed him.

Cara later explains that the village treats heating as a celebratory act, “Hence the feasts every night and the ‘congrats’ this afternoon,” she clarifies.“Oh,” you realize, a deep blush returning to your cheeks.“Well, that’s better than how most villages regard heats and ruts, I suppose,” you cheerfully concede. 

The child sits on your lap, babbling up at the two of you.“He had a blast while you two were, _ahem_ , busy.”The teasing look in her eyes is warm, and you find yourself more comforted by it than anything.“Oh yeah?” You ask, scrunching your nose up at the kid.“Did you get to play with all of the children?”He babbles again, arms waving excitedly.

“Thank you, again, for watching over him.We really appreciate it.”

Cara waves her hand, rolling her eyes good-naturedly.“Of course, Squirt.I’d do most anything for Mando.”She pauses.“But don’t tell him I said that, I’d never hear the end of it if he found out.”

You laugh, blushing at the little nickname. _Squirt.Are you really that small?_

Din calls for Cara from outside Omera’s hut, and she nods her head at you as she rises to help the mandalorian.You turn your attention to Baby; you’d meant it when you said you missed him.

“Did you behave for Auntie Cara?Hm?”He giggles up at you, and you take that to mean, _Did you really expect me to behave?_

“No?I guess I didn’t think you would,” you reply with a giggle of your own, tickling his clothed belly with your finger. 

It’s then that Winta rushes in, beaming at you.You greet her warmly and she greets you, stooping to coo at the child.“We had so much fun playing with him this week,” she eagerly says.“Do…you think you and the Mandalorian will be back again soon?”You chuckle and avert your eyes, pretending to busy your gaze towards the child as a blush blooms on your cheeks.“I do think so,” you reply, looking back up at the girl with a smile.

Her beam grows even wider, and she rushes to give you and the child a hug, whispering an excited “Thank you!” You laugh, holding her close with your free arm.“Of course.”

She’s still beaming when she pulls away from you, before her face contorts to one of genuine goodwill.“Has Mama given you the special tea yet?”

Confused, you shake your head, brows knitted.“No…she hasn’t mentioned anything of a special tea.”

Her face then contorts into one of shock.“Really?Mama always gives omegas a cup of it after their heat!”Suddenly she’s rushing into her mother’s kitchen.

Clearly, she’s seen her mother do this dozens of times, as she pours three scoops of the tea into a mug, filling it with steaming water.“Here,” she says as she carefully sets it on the table you’re sitting at.“Mama says it’s really helpful for omegas after a heat!I don’t know why, though.She never tells me!”She sits in the chair beside you, slumping and pouting slightly.You laugh, warmed by her antics.“You’ll understand someday,” you assure her, bringing the mug to your lips. 

  
“Yeah…that’s what she says too,” Winta says and nods, looking very much like her mother. _What would your children look like?Would they have your eyes or would they resemble their father?_

You almost choke on your tea as the thought enters your mind.Who said anything about children?And why did you assume that Din would be the father of your children? _It’s just leftover omega-space instincts,_ you assure yourself, burying yourself in the hot tea, letting its bitter taste ground you. _This tea’s probably supposed to help with that.Healing and all._

You thank Winta for the tea, and move to rinse the cup.She’s up and at ‘em, the way children usually are, and you watch her fondly as she rushes out of the hut, almost crashing into the mandalorian as he enters.He gives her a fond nod as she rushes past him, beaming up at him as she does so.

The child balanced in your arm begins babbling again, reaching out for his papa.Din complies and takes the little bundle from your arms, murmuring to him in Mando’a. 

“You know, someday you’ll have to teach me some,” you tease, standing across from him, watching him tenderly hold his foundling. 

“I could teach you some now,” he offers, moving his t-visored gaze to your face. 

“For example,” he continues, “‘Mesh’la’ means _beautiful_.”

He taps the bottom of your chin with a curled finger as he walks past you, leaving you to blush inside Omera’s empty hut. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope u enjoyed! im a sucker for the soft smut uwu
> 
> btw i meant it when i said i got myself fucked up,,,crying during the soft sex scene and shit....smh


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry for how long this took :/ school has just started up again u know how it is

The departure from Sorgan proved to be more difficult than you thought it would be.After a hug from Winta and Omera, and a bone-crushing handshake from Cara, you were on your way, blinking back tears.They’d been so welcoming, and during such a difficult time.You’d make it a point to bring them gifts when you returned. 

The three of you stood as the ramp of the Razor Crest rose, waving goodbye to the welcoming village.“You’re welcome anytime,” Omera shouted just before the doors of the crest closed, separating the village from the three of you.

You looked at the green bundle in your arms before turning your gaze to Din, caught red-handed staring at the two of you.You smiled brightly at him. 

“Where to next, Tin Can?”

-

The dynamic between yourself and the mandalorian has undoubtedly changed after your week spent on Sorgan. 

You’re more comfortable around each other, more…relaxed.The silence moments spent in the cockpit have become comfortable, romantic even, as you idly watch the stars race past the ship.You hope he doesn’t notice the way your gaze slips from the stars to the back of his helmet, or to his gloved hands resting on the controls.You’d worry about overstepping boundaries if you hadn’t caught him doing the same thing.The number of times you’ve lulled the child to sleep only to find out that Din is also listening to your voice warms your heart.You wonder if he’s looking at you or the child, but you have a sneaking suspicion that he’s gazing at the both of you.

“What’re you lookin’ at, Tin Can?”You attempt to tease him one night, whispering as the child has fallen asleep in your arms.He doesn’t answer you; instead, he marvels out loud, “You’re so good with him.I…It used to take me hours to get him to sleep.” 

You gaze down at the child, moving to shift him into Din’s inexperienced arms, moving them accordingly to support his tiny frame.Silently teaching him how to hold the child, how to be a father.“He likes the sound of our voices,” you say softly, gazing at the child’s sleeping face.“You should…talk to him more.Tell him stories, tell him about yourself.” 

Din’s gaze is trained on the child as he absorbs this information.

“Sometimes I even sing to him,” you admit, purposefully averting his gaze as the black t-visor moves to face you.“Never when I’m around,” he says, voice gruff and neutral, barely concealing his disappointment.“Never,” you confirm.“Only when you’re away on a job.” 

A gloved finger and thumb gently grip your chin, moving your gaze to his own.“Let me hear you, next time.” _Let me hear you sing my foundling to sleep_.“Please.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and you try your best to play it off, saying, “Yeah?What’s in it for me, Tin Can?”It might have worked, might have masked how flustered this simple action has made you, if it hadn’t revealed how breathless you really are. 

The helmet tilts.“I’m sure I can make it up to you, Short Stuff.”You can hear the smugness in his voice, can almost see him smirking beneath his helmet. 

If you weren’t so transfixed on him and how _easy_ it is for him to rile you up, you’d be amazed at how he’s balancing the sleeping bundle in one arm.A real natural. 

-

There’s one night, however, where you just cannot get the child to sleep.He’s fussy, fussier than usual. 

You’d gotten him to sleep earlier, but he’d woken up screeching, tears streaming down his tiny face. 

You tried everything-holding him close, singing, talking.Din, who had been sleeping in his quarters as evidenced by his lack of dress, found you in your cabin, hopelessly trying to soothe him.

“He had a bad dream,” you explained over the screeching.“I can’t get him to calm down.I’m sorry if he woke you.”

The child looks over his shoulder and sees the mandalorian.The screeching stops, turning into hiccups and shuddering breaths as he holds his arms out for his Papa. 

Din approaches and takes him from your arms, murmuring to him in Mando’a.“It’s okay, ad, it’s okay.Buir’s olar.”

Turning his gaze to you, Din takes in your disheveled appearance.Your hair is a mess, and there are bags under your eyes.You look…more run down than usual, more fatigued.“It’s okay, Short Stuff,” he assures.“I’ll take care of it.”You wince, asking the beginnings of an ‘Are you sure?’ only to be interrupted by the mandalorian.“Yes.Get some rest, cyar’ika.”He gives you a gentle headbutt, and you blearily blink in confusion, before nodding.“Thanks, Din.I’m sorry again.”

He nods at you, ignores your apology, and turns to leave.He’s barely left the room before the child loses it again, throwing his head back and wailing.Din tries calming him, gently shushing his foundling but to no avail.He steps back in, and the child’s crying stops.Tearfully, he holds his arms out to you, sniffing dramatically.You take him in his arms and look up to Din’s visor.“I think he wants both of us.”

-

You sleep in his cot that night.It’s bigger than your own, though not by much, but it’s barely big enough for the child to sleep in-between the two of you.He finally calms down after half an hour of looking from side to side, making sure neither you nor Din have left his side. 

You watch the little one as he drifts to sleep, holding his stuffed toy in his tiny fist.You quell the urge to reach out and touch him, to gently caress his comically-large ears, lest you wake him up again. 

Din lies on the other side of the sleeping child, the black t-visor facing you. 

“You know…we can’t make a habit of this.Of him sleeping with the two of us.” 

He says nothing and you wonder if he’s fallen asleep.

“It could cause him to develop separation anxiety,” you continue, gazing at the little one.

“…I think he already has separation anxiety,” he admits, his voice so soft that you might not have caught it if you hadn’t been straining to hear. 

Din sighs and shifts in the cot, as he tells you about the child, how he’d been a bounty, how he gave him up for the beskar, how _awful_ he’d felt afterward.You say nothing, letting him talk about it, for you get the feeling he’s been keeping it bottled up for some time. 

When he’s finished, his breath coming out in quiet shudders, you reach across the child to find his wrist.You feel him relax as the pads of your fingers rub at his scent gland.“It’s okay.He’s okay.I don’t think he’d be safer with anyone else than with you.”

His eyes have been clamped shut beneath his helmet, and when he opens them, he finds your eyes, wide and genuine as ever.He sighs, limbs sagging in relief.“I hope so,” he mumbles, moving to rub at your scent gland with the pads of his fingers, much rougher and bigger than yours.“I…I’m trying my best,” he whispers, almost afraid to admit it out loud, to admit that all he can do is _try_ , that he’s learning. 

“That’s all he can ask of you,” you murmur, sending him a gentle smile before your eyelids droop. 

The rough pads of his fingers are still scenting you as you drift to sleep.

-

It becomes a habit to sleep in the same cot.The child, however, sleeps in his floating carriage in the same room.“We’ll get there using baby steps,” you’d assured Din.“First he falls asleep in the same room, knowing we’re here.Then eventually, he can fall asleep a room away in his little crib, and we can work from there!”

It’s an intricate little dance the two of you are perpetuating.Neither of you have begun correcting shop patrons, mechanics, doctors, or anyone, really, when they assume the green baby in your arms is a product of the mandalorian and yourself. 

Scenting one another has also become a habit; in the morning, throughout the day, sitting in the cockpit, and especially before one or both of you go to bed.Neither of you says anything about it out loud, but then again, neither of you feel the need to.It just feels…right. 

Din begins refusing jobs that would result in him leaving the Crest for weeks at a time; he doesn’t say anything about this either, but you notice it. 

Things are silently changing between you two, and you find yourself giddily excited to find out where this new normal will lead to.

-

One night, Baby’s high pitched fussing wakes you.You’re up and moving towards the child’s bassinet before you even fully realize you’re awake.You realize Din is still piloting the ship, as he had been when you’d fallen asleep. 

Blearily, you blink the sleep out of your eyes and rock the child in your arms, murmuring to him. 

You’ve begun recognizing his cries, as you’ve noticed there are very few.This is his “I’m bored,” fuss, as you’ve come to refer to it as. 

“I hear you, I hear you,” you murmur to him, a teasing edge to your voice.“What is it you’d like?” you ask him, bouncing him on your hip. 

“A story?A song, maybe?”

The child babbles in your arms, clutching his stuffed toy.

You hold him close to you, and sway gently as you begin to sing to him.

_“Black is the color of my true love's hair,_

_His face so soft and wondrous fair._

_The purest eyes and the strongest hands,_

_I love the ground on where he stands._

_I love my love and well he knows,_

_I love the ground whereon he goes._

_The prettiest face, the neatest hands,_

_I love the ground whereon he stands.”_

The child’s wide eyes have slipped closed by the time you reach the third verse, but you continue singing anyways, lulling yourself as you have the child. 

Din stands in the doorway of his quarters, watching you sway in the starlight, his foundling on your hip.He watches and listens, unbeknownst to you, as you sing. 

_Black is the color of my true love’s hair._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wanted a slower, more 'slice of life' chapter before we get into the excitement again (because we most certainly will be getting back into the excitement again soon lol)
> 
> also yall im having such a blast writing this. i'm thinking of writing more mandalorian stuff but im not entirely sure yet. if there's anything you really want but you haven't seen it yet, let me know! i love aus lmao


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 8) im back bitches !!!! ngl i had a blast writing this and we're really getting into it 8)))

At first, you’d thought the fatigue you’d been experiencing lately was due to the child’s own restlessness.You’d spent a few days taking care of Baby when he fusses in the middle of the night, but Din had also tended to him, on the nights when you were so bone-tired, too tired to fight your drooping eyelids. 

But then, even after the child had settled down, even after he’d overcome his bout of separation anxiety, you still found yourself exhausted.And moody. 

You’d always been patient with the child, and even when irritated you never snapped at him, but your patience had begun wearing thin.Din had noticed too, and had gently asked you about it one quiet evening. 

“Short Stuff…are you…feeling okay lately?”The question catches you off guard, and you give him a puzzled look, watching the stars reflected on his helmet.“Yeah, Tin Can, I feel fine.Why?What’s up?”His helmet turns to look at you before looking back at the stars as they fly past you. 

“You’ve been…short, lately.More upset than usual.”

Still puzzled, you tilt your head and think about it for a moment.“I guess I have been feeling a little…off lately.Strange.But I think it’s because I can’t sleep.” 

Din nods, his hand seeking yours out in the dim light of the cockpit.“It’ll pass,” he murmurs, stroking the rough pads of his fingers along your scent gland.

His gesture is meant to comfort you, but you find yourself biting back a mewl at such a physically intimate act.

Immediately, you tense, trying to hide your growing arousal at his touch.A wave of panic begins rising, only to be knocked down by a stronger wave of lust and yearning.Why are you reacting to his touch like this?You’ve spent the past few weeks sleeping in the man’s bed, carrying his scent night and day.Of course, you would be lying if you’d said that you weren’t at least a _little_ attracted to him ever since Sorgan…okay, more than a little, but even so, nothing particularly physical has happened between yourself and the mandalorian since then.Whatever crush you’ve been nursing for the man has yet to be this…severe. 

You wonder how you can get out of this.Should you just accept it and leave now, saving yourself from further embarrassment?Should you try to hide it, hoping his helmet will block out the scent of your arousal?Fuck, he’s going to notice either way, and you’re trying to think fast but the tingling between your legs is starting to fog up your mind. 

You clench your thighs together and move to scent his wrist as well.Playing normal is the best thing to do, you decide haphazardly, and normally you would scent him in return.But this isn’t normal because normally you wouldn’t want the mandalorian to pound you against the wall, his hand around your throat to keep you quiet and _where the Fuck did that thought process come from?_ You’ve gotta get out of here before your hormones make your arousal known in this space, too enclosed for your liking at the moment. 

You drop Din’s wrist and stand abruptly, turning to leave the cockpit when his grip tightens on yours. 

“Where are you going, _Short Stuff_?” 

Your stomach drops at the deep baritone of his voice, deeper than usual.“I-I was just going to go to bed,” you attempt, your voice wavering.He’s got you, and you both know it. 

“Funny,” he muses, turning the pilot’s chair around to face you.“You don’t _seem_ particularly ready for bed.”

You swallow.“No?”

He shakes his head, and you can imagine the smirk donning his features beneath the helmet.“No.”

He releases your wrist and pats one of his thighs.You blush, your mouth gaping open.He pats his thigh again, spreading his legs a bit.“Don’t make me ask you again,” he warns, a growl rising in his throat.The alpha is making itself known in his voice, and your inner omega complies as you step forward on shaky legs, moving to straddle his thigh.The cool touch of his beskar bites you through your thin nightclothes and you stare into his visor, awaiting his next order.

“The child’s asleep?” he asks, his voice falling to a whisper.The juxtaposition jolts you and you almost perk up in confusion, but you manage a nod, answering him with a soft whisper of your own.“Last I checked on him, he was.”

“Good.”He nods, gently resting his helmet against your forehead.You’re not entirely sure of what this gesture means, for as often as he exhibits it, he has yet to explain the meaning behind it.You’ve gathered the intimacy of the act, though, and you respond to it the way you always do: leaning into him and closing your eyes. 

“In that case,” the deep, alpha edge of his voice returns and you open your eyes as he sits up straight again. “Let me take care of you, little _omega_.” 

You mewl, nodding raggedly as you lean into him.“Please, alpha..”

His hands, so large against your frame, caress the back of your thighs before he adjusts your position, moving you so your back is pressed against his beskar-clad chest, your ass perfectly pressed against the juncture of his legs. 

Biting back a moan, you grin cheekily and begin moving your hips, grinding against his steadily hardening cock.He tilts his head back and lets himself enjoy your teasing for a few moments, letting you believe you’re in control.He wants it back the second you become too cocky, though, as he lightly slaps your pussy over your thin nightclothes, earning a yelp out of you. 

“Quit it,” he growls, dipping his bare hand into your shorts.He lets out a ragged gasp when he finds you aren’t wearing anything underneath them, and he slowly drags his fingers up your slit, gathering your slick and rubbing at your clit with his fingertips.“Mesh’la,” he grunts, “Have-how long have you been wearing fucking _nothing_ underneath your nightclothes?” 

You can hear the arousal in his voice, how hard he’s controlling himself.It makes you moan as you squirm in his lap. 

“E-ever since you, ah,” his fingers speed up, intentionally making it harder for you to think straight enough to get a single sentence out.“Ever since you fucked me on Sorgan!”You squeak out, eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment as his hand slows.

“That fucking long?” 

His voice is dangerously low and it absolutely _thrills_ you. 

“You mean to tell me that you’ve been walking around every night, sleeping beside me every night, _with no fucking panties on_?”

You turn around to face him, giving him a cheeky, half-lidded grin. 

“You’re not complaining, are ya?” 

He doesn’t respond verbally.Instead, he picks up his pace, wiping that shameless fucking smile off your face, relentlessly working your clit without respite.You hold onto him for dear life, attempting to warn him of your impending orgasm with a feeble, “Din!”

Your body begins tensing and your hips buck up into his hand of their own accord, only for Din to snatch his hand away from you. 

“Wha-no, Din, please, _please_ -“

The alpha interrupts your tearful begging with a quick, harsh slap to your pussy.You yelp and jump in his lap, whimpering against him. 

“Get up.Go get your blindfold.And don’t come back with anything on,” he growls out.When you take to long to rise from his lap, he roughly pushes you up.You stumble away from him, legs shaky, and risk a glance over your shoulder at him before scampering away to his quarters. 

You do as he says and strip before grabbing the blindfold.You hadn’t used it since your heat (obviously), but you take a moment to thank the maker that he had enough sense to keep it around just in case. _Just in case of what?This is a new fucking development for sure_ , but you abandon the thought as you make your way back to the cockpit, not wanting to keep him waiting any longer. 

He’s lazily stroking his cock when you return, and you stop in your tracks just to admire him.He’s a portrait of confidence as he sits in the pilot’s chair, still clad in his beskar. _Kriff_ , he’s big. Thick, too. _How the fuck was he able to fit himself inside of you with just one stroke?_ Apparently you take too long thinking about it because he beckons you with a single toss of his head. 

He has you situated and blindfolded in no time, holding you steady against him, your bare back to his beskar-covered chest.You could cry when you hear the tell-tale hiss of his helmet being removed.

Peppering kisses up and down your neck, he huskily murmurs into your ear, “Tell me what you want, cyar’ika,”You squirm against him, whimpering and begging brokenly.“Please, Din, I want-want your-“You have to stop yourself from going too far, from saying something too intense even for him.“Want you.”

He tsks against you, moving down to nibble the juncture of your neck and your shoulder.“Do I need to repeat myself?Hm?”One of his hands reaches around and squeezes the sides of your neck, making your thoughts go even hazier.“I said, ‘Tell me what you want.’” 

His voice is dangerously low again, and with the way he’s deliciously squeezing your neck, you think you’d do anything he asked of you.

You begin babbling.“Din, I want your fucking knot, want you to fucking _cum inside of me_ and _keep it there_ with your fucking knot, wanna, ah!”He’s begun toying with your clit again, letting out a deep groan at your desires.“Wanna _what_ , mesh’la?” he murmurs.“Wanna bear your fucking children, _alpha_ , please!”

Din stops in his tracks, biting his lip in an attempt to deter himself from marking you as his right then, right there.“That what you want, cyar’ika?Wanna carry your alpha’s children?” he growls, teasing your entrance with the head of his cock.You nod furiously, grinding down against him. 

Finally, he relents and hooks his hands underneath your thighs, slowly lowering you down onto his cock.You groan as he impales you, your slick in combination with his precome making for rather indecent noises.“Such a good girl for me, omega,” He growls before nipping at your neck.“Gonna, _fuck_ , gonna take good fucking care of you, my little omega.”

You lay your head against his shoulder, keening as he thrusts up into you.“ _Yes_ , your omega, Din, yours, yours, yours-“ your babble breaks off in a high pitched whine when he gropes your breasts with his rough hands and _squeezes_.It leaves your tits sore, but the pain mixes beautifully with the pleasure and you moan all the same. 

“Such a beautiful little omega, so fuckin’ _pretty_.Gonna look even fucking prettier when you’re carrying _my_ children.” 

That makes you moan so loud, you worry for half a second that you might wake the child. 

“Din, I’m-I’m getting, _ah_ , getting close!” 

He takes your chin in one of his hands and turns you towards him, kissing you _hard_.The angle is awkward and mostly uncomfortable but you cannot bring yourself to care, reveling in his taste. 

“Cum for me, mesh’la.Cum on this fucking cock,” he stops kissing your gentle skin and instead begins biting at you, pushing you over the edge. 

He moans against you as your cunt pulses around him, squeezing his cock with ever wave of your orgasm.He bites down even harder, and you wail in pleasure at the sensation. 

“Yes, please, please, _please_ , alpha!Please fucking mark me with your bite, _please_ , _please, please_ mate me, please, I’ll be good, I’ll be so fucking good, I’ll do _anything_ you want, just _please_ -“

Din howls as he cums, hips still thrusting up into you as he rides out his orgasm. 

You’re scenting him when he comes back to earth, the soft pads of your fingertips trembling as they brush against the scent gland on his wrist.His knot has swelled wonderfully inside of you, and the two of you quietly slump against each other. 

“You can’t say shit like that, Short Stuff,” Din huffs against you, his hand snaking around to slowly toy with your clit while his knot throbs inside of you.“Hm?”

You’re barely listening, as overstimulated as you are.“If you keep begging me to mark you like that, I-“ he pauses as he searches for the right words.“I might not be able to control myself in the moment.”

You’re both silent as you ponder this.You understand it wouldn’t be intentional if it happened, but that thought somehow sends a pang of pain through your chest.You want to tell him that it would be okay, that the two of you would be able to make it work if you two accidentally bonded, that you wouldn’t hate him. 

Instead, you say, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He holds you close for a time, neither of you speaking until his knot softens within you.Slowly, you stand on sore, shaky legs.Din’s cum is dribbling out of you, and you reach down to scoop up the mix of your juices, boldly using it to scent yourself.You hear Din suck in a breath at the sight, muttering a quiet, “ _Fuck_ , Short Stuff.” 

You turn and grin cheekily at him, before taking a step and promptly stumbling, your legs still numb. 

Din’s immediately up, catching you before you can fall.“Easy, mesh’la,” he murmurs, huffing out a relieved laugh.You wince and lean into Din’s support as he leads you towards his-your shared quarters.“I’ll have to go easier on you next time, huh?” he teases as he lowers you onto the cot.“Don’t you _dare_ , Tin Can,” you snap, earning a fully-fledged laugh from the man.

You find yourself falling in and out of sleep as Din cleans you with a warm, wet rag, as he removes his armor, and as he gets into bed beside you.The last thing you’re aware of before you drift off to sleep is the soft kiss he presses to your hairline. 

-

Din wakes in the middle of the night to the sound of you emptying your stomach’s contents into the vactube.He was beside you in an _instant_ , voice slightly distorted by his helmet’s modulator as he rests his hand on your back.“I wasn’t that bad, was I?” he joked weakly, rubbing calm circles against your skin. 

You would have laughed at him if you weren’t vomiting your guts out, and you rose to tell him so before vomiting into the vactube again.You heaved until all your body could do was retch, having emptied your stomach entirely. 

“Maybe I’m developing starsickness,” you lamented, looking up at Din’s t-visor with teary eyes.“How am I gonna travel with you if I can’t handle flying?”You lament as Din helps you up. "How am I gonna stay and take care of the kid?" You're holding back sobs at this point, emotional and physical exhaustion getting to you. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure something out,” he assures as you rinse your mouth out. 

You turn to face him, smiling weakly, when you realize just how lightheaded you’re beginning to feel.

Din watches in horror as your smile fades and calls out your name as you fall to the ground, unconscious. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope u enjoyed the nastiness uwu cause i certainly enjoyed writing it!!!
> 
> love yall, and i hope yall are enjoying <3


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 8D OH BOY YALL  
> also super big shoutout to @djarin-junk on tumblr for giving me advice for these upcoming chapters...  
> also i know fainting spells dont last this long irl but hey ur not really here for medical accuracies, are ya?

Din’s a levelheaded man.Years of training as a warrior, studying the different ways to keep himself calm in the face of violence, preparing for making decisions in the moment.He allows himself the privilege of panic only for a moment as he watches you fall to the ground. 

“Short Stuff!” 

He calls out for you as he swoops down to catch you, yet you don’t wake.The child waddles in, rubbing at his eyes, with his stuffed animal in his other hand; the commotion has woken Baby up. 

He gets himself dressed in record time and briefly decides to dress you as well (he tells himself it’s because you’d be more comfortable waking in your own clothes, not because he doesn’t want anyone else seeing so much of your exposed skin), before rushing to the nearest planet’s medbay. 

-

The nurse holding a clipboard in front of him is entirely too calm for his liking, and he can barely focus on what she’s saying as he lays you down onto a gurney, brushing your hair out of your face.Maker, you look…you look like shit.There are dark circles underneath your eyes, and you look downright undernourished.And they expect him to just stand here and calmly answer the nurse while they wheel you away from him?

Every word that comes out of the nurse’s mouth may as well be a mile away, but he finds it in himself to absentmindedly answer anyways, his gaze never leaving the closed doors separating himself from you. 

“Does she have any allergies?”

No, not that Din knows of.She’s certainly never mentioned any. _Kriff_ , what if she does have an allergy and he just doesn’t know about it?What if-

“Any medical histories I should know of?”

He shakes his head so vigorously that the child makes a noise of complaint in Din’s arms.

“Is she currently taking any medications?”

Din’s finally able to tear his gaze from the closed doors, choosing to gaze into the child’s owlish eyes instead. 

“Suppressants.She’s-she’s an omega.” 

The nurse nods, jotting something down on her clipboard with clawed hands. 

“Any chance she’s pregnant?”

Now that one throws him for a loop.“No,” he immediately answers.“Of course not”, didn’t she _just_ hear him say you’re taking suppressants?But then again…

The reptilian nurse must notice his hesitance, and she patiently waits for him to come to terms with his internal conflict.

“…Very little chance,” he begrudgingly admits, finally turning his gaze to meet hers. 

She’s very reassuring, and she spares him a kind smile as she jots something else down.“We’ll take some blood just to be sure.It’s routine with omegas of childbearing age, anyways.Most likely, she’s just had a fainting spell due to over-exhaustion or the beginnings of malnourishment-things that can be easily combatted.” 

Din nods, holding onto every word. 

“Alright, Mandalorian,” the nurse concludes with a smile.“Anything else I can do for you before I go in?”

“Take care of her.Please.” 

-

Din spends hours pacing back and forth in this tiny waiting room.The child, who can only entertain himself with his stuffed animal for so long, begins to grow fussy after hour three.He spends three more hours bouncing his foundling while he waits for you. 

Maker, what is he going to do if you’re pregnant.Kriff, what are _you_ going to do?

The green foundling is enough of a handful (not that Din would give him up for anything in the universe, and he reminds himself to give the child a keldabe kiss as he pauses his pacing), but what would the two of you do with another one?

_What if you don’t even want to carry his child?_ The thought hurts him so much that it stops his pacing, the breath knocked out of him.If you don’t want to keep it, it’s not that he’d blame you… _Kriff_ , he thinks, _it’s not like I’d be carrying the damned pups._ But maker knows he would if it meant you wouldn’t have to go through the pain childbearing comes with.And putting the pain aside, you’re not even mated, let alone soul-bonded.The two of you couldn’t even put a name to your relationship if blasters were held to your heads; somewhere between friends-no-colleagues with benefits, and, well, a romantic relationship. 

If you don’t want this-a _family_ …a _life_ with him…then he’ll have to accept it.Ultimately, it’s your choice…but maker knows Din would be devastated.But… quietly devastated. _Whatever’s best for her_.That’s all Din wants right now. 

But maker, if you’re pregnant, and you want to raise this child with him…Din almost wants to stomp out the thought before it can progress any further.All he’ll do is give himself false hope, expectations for something that can’t be true…right? 

The child coos, successfully bringing Din out of his trance.“I’m sorry, ad.I’m just worried…I don’t know what’s wrong with Mama.” 

Baby coos again, blinking owlishly at him.Din sighs and decides to sit down, his knee tapping apprehensively. 

_Maker_ , where are you?Why aren’t you awake yet?And why won’t they let him in? 

He stands up and walks to the desk, where a rather bored-looking receptionist is sitting.“Excuse me, sir?”The receptionist turns to Din, eyes widening when he realizes it’s the mandalorian who’s spent the better half of the afternoon pacing in this waiting room.Din clears his throat, building up the courage he’ll need for this next part.“My-my wife was admitted hours ago…is there any chance I can see her?”

-

You wake up in an empty medcenter room.Your head is _throbbing_ and there’s a steady beeping coming from beside you.The last thing you can remember is the Tin Can calling out your name…he sounded really worried…you’ll have to ask him about it when he comes back. _What if he doesn’t come back?What if something happened and he’s left you here to rot in this shitty little medcenter and-_

Your panicked internal monologue is interrupted when a nurse enters your room, smiling at you when she realizes you’re awake. 

“Good morning, Mumma,” she chirps, smiling to reveal pointed teeth. 

“Morning,” you reply, slowly sitting up.Your voice is gravelly from sleep, and your mouth is unbearably dry. 

“Your husband _wooooooried_!”She draws out the ‘wor’ and ends on a high pitched ‘ied.’“He gave us all sorts of instructions once we let him back here to see you.Not that I blame him, of course, what with a little one and all.”

She hands you a glass of water and you greedily gulp it down, nearly choking when you realize what she’s just said. 

“ _Husband_?”

“The mandalorian!”

“Oh…” relief instantly floods you, knowing that he hasn’t abandoned you here.But then, where is he?

“How long have I been here?”

She takes your glass and refills it, pushing it into your hands as she says, “About ten hours.The mandalorian brought you in as soon as you collapsed.” 

You’re thankful for the water and for the time it gives you to think about what to say next, what to ask first.

“Where is he?”

The nurse smiles good-naturedly. 

“Don’t worry, Mumma, he hasn’t gone far.The little one was getting fussy, said he needed to feed him.Besides that, he didn’t leave your side.”

She smiles brightly at you while you process this. 

“In fact, he gave us a commlink in case you woke up while he was gone.Would you like us to call him for you?”

Of course you say yes, interrupting her just as she finishes her sentence. 

She chuckles and makes her way towards your door, but before she leaves, she turns to face you. 

“Before I say anything, does your husband know?”

“Know what?”

“Congratulations, Mrs. Mandalorian.You’re pregnant.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on tumblr @poetichibisus or on twitter @dindjarinstan if u ever wanna bounce ideas or talk abt daddy din uwu
> 
> (also im so sorry for how short this chapter is...im having more and more writer's block with this story unfortunately :/ )


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The secret's out!!!!! lmaoo
> 
> TW: abortion is mentioned in this chapter! Just wanted to give y'all a heads up!

Din all but bursts into the room, Baby in his arms.“Short Stuff,” he huffs, out of breath from _literally_ running from the Crest to this little medcenter.He’s immediately by your side, a gloved hand cupping your jaw, helmet tilting as he checks you over. 

“Are you alright?What happened? _Maker_ , Short Stuff-“

His panicked rambling is interrupted as a nurse droid enters the room, holding a tray in its steel hands. 

Din’s blaster is pointed at the nurse droid before you can convince him otherwise.“ _What is_ that _doing here_?”He’s absolutely seething, growling out at a deafening roar.“ _I thought I made myself_ clear _when I said ‘no droids_.’” 

You don’t even know who he’s yelling at-the only other living things in the small room are you and the foundling, and the nurse droid has certainly gotten the message.It replies in droid, but something tells you that Din doesn’t understand droid. 

“ _Din_.” 

You grab his shoulder, breaking him out of his rage-filled trance.“I’m _fine_.That’s the first droid I’ve seen, and it’s only visited me after I spoke to a doctor.I’m fine.” 

He puts the gun in his holster as the droid retreats from the room, his chest puffed up, rising and falling rapidly.The little one peeps in Din’s arm, smiling happily at you, seemingly oblivious to his Papa’s rage. 

Everything about the mandalorian softens when he turns to face you again; his body language, his voice, his eyes.“Short Stuff. _Kriff_ , I was so worried.What happened?Why did you-“You interrupt his panicked rambling when you raise both of your hands to rest just under his helmet, gently caressing the scent glands residing there.“I don’t know yet,” you lie, hoping it doesn’t show in your eyes.“I saw the doctor when I woke up, she said she’d come back to give the both of us the results.” 

“Okay,” he breathes out, finally calming down for the first time in hours.“Okay.” 

-

The child missed you terribly, as you quickly learn. 

Din sits on the hospital bed, watching as you hold Baby, scrunching your nose up at him.“Did you behave for Papa?I heard you did such a good job keeping an eye on him!”He babbles in response, his eyes wide and earnest.The mandalorian chuckles, finally feeling himself relax as he watches you interact with his foundling. 

It’s at this point that he realizes how…out of it you seem.He can’t put a finger on what exactly is wrong, but he can see it in your eyes: something is clearly on your mind.But now’s not the time to press you about it.All he wants is to get the all-clear, go home, and hold the two of you close. 

The reptilian nurse returns, wearing a kind and reassuring smile. 

“Alright, loves!I have good news for you.”

Din straightens up, hanging onto the nurse’s every word. 

“It was just a simple case of dehydration.Drink some more water, take it easy for a little while, and be sure to take those vitamins I was telling you about!”Din notices the way she eyes you a little as she says this, as if the two of you are sharing some sort of secret.Maybe you are.Din doesn’t care at this point, he’s so relieved to hear that you’re _okay_ and that it wasn’t anything serious and, maker, he can’t bear to think about what would have happened if it was something worse than a little dehydration.He’s so distracted by this immense relief, that he misses it when the nurse hands you a few pamphlets along with the bottle of vitamins on the way out.

-

The mandalorian is silent as the three of you make your way back to the Crest, content just to listen to your cooing and Baby’s responding babbles.You’ve talked the child’s comically large ear off, and it’s lulled him to sleep before the ramp could even lower to the ground. 

You can feel Din’s eyes on you as you tuck the wrinkly little baby into his crib, the doors closing over him. 

Turning to face him, the anxiety you’ve been ignoring returns.You open your mouth to blurt it out, but before you can say anything, Din’s engulfed you in a firm, warm hug.He buries his beskar-clad head into the crook of your neck, shaking against you.“It’s okay,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around him.“It is now,” he mutters, pulling away from you to gaze into your eyes.“Seeing you in that cot…when they wheeled you away from me…”He pauses, shuddering.“I don’t ever want to see you like that again.” 

Your hands move towards his wrists, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into his scent glands.“You won’t have to,” you promise.“I’m not goin’ anywhere, Tin Can.”You look up at him with earnestly wide eyes, and you’re reminded of the first time you’d grounded him like this, calming him down with your scent.It seems so far away to you now. 

Your silent musing is interrupted by his voice, raspier than usual. “Close your eyes, Short Stuff.Don’t open them until I say.”You comply, jumping at the _clang_ the beskar helmet makes as he drops it to the floor of the Crest. 

He buries his face in your neck, inhaling deeply, grounding himself in your scent. 

You startle at first when you feel his lips against yours, but you quickly melt into it, wrapping your arms around his neck.You obediently keep your eyes closed even when he steps away from you.“You can open your eyes again, Short Stuff.”You open them to see the familiar black t-visor staring back at you, and you find yourself disappointed for some reason. 

You follow him up to the cockpit, bringing the sleeping child with you.You’re not quite sure why, but you can’t bear to be away from the wrinkly little baby right now.The two of you sit in comfortable silence, watching the stars whiz past you. 

“Why didn’t you confront them?” Din asks you out of nowhere. 

“Confront them about what?”

“When they called me your husband.Why didn’t you confront them?” 

Of course, Din keeps it to himself that he was the one who told them as such.But still, you hadn’t made any move to correct them.He just has to know why.

“ _I_ was asleep for half a day. _You_ certainly didn’t correct them either,” you quietly tease.“I could ask you the same,” you continue, grinning cheekily when the mandalorian in front of you stutters out the beginning of a response, his hand rubbing the back of his neck in an act of uncharacteristic bashfulness.

“Besides,” you interrupt, saving him from himself.“I figured visiting hours applied to immediate family only.Didn’t wanna risk it.” 

“Oh,” is all Din can think to say.“Smart.”

Didn’t want to risk _what_ exactly?Maker, he wants to know, but he’s done enough prying for the night.Everything is okay in this moment, and neither of you are willing to jeopardize that with more…invasive questions. 

-

The moment cannot last forever, unfortunately. 

Din’s anxiety regarding your safety has returned.Or perhaps, it never really left.The black t-visor watches your every move like a steelpecker.You’re rarely ever out of his sight nowadays.And as if that wasn’t enough, you _know_ he notices how strange you’ve been acting, how jumpy you’ve been around him.You’re just thankful that it’s still too early after your fainting spell for him to ask about it. 

And then there’s your…condition. 

The word ‘pregnant’ echoes around in your head, and you find it hard to focus on anything else.When caring for the child, you find yourself wondering what it’ll be like when your own little one is…out and about, for lack of better terms.If they’ll get along with the foundling, will they protect each other despite their childish rivalries the way siblings often do?Will they fight with each other and go to bed angry, only to wake up best friends once again?And, maker, then there’s birthdays.You’re positive that Din doesn’t know what Baby’s birthday is, and you certainly don’t know either, but the two of you are going to have to come up with one so he doesn’t get jealous of his baby brother or sister. 

And maker help you, you have no idea what to tell Din.The mandalorian, the father of your child.Even just thinking of the phrase makes your stomach churn with anxiety; as a result, you find yourself nesting almost constantly nowadays.Every blanket in the Razor Crest is arranged in Din’s cot, forming a perfect cocoon for yourself and Baby.And occasionally Din. 

But even the safety of your nest cannot keep your deepest fears from entering your mind: what if Din doesn’t want this baby?Your baby?Will he beg you to terminate it?Or will he march you to a clinic himself, the mouth of a blaster pressing into your back?Or, _kriff_ , is he just going to kill you and be over with it in an instant? _No, no, maker, no.Din’s not even a bad man, let alone a monster.He’s not going to kill you_ , you reason with yourself, and you know you’re right but you cannot seem to grasp the fact that you’re right.The worst he could do is to leave you on some planet to raise your child without him.Do you even want that?To raise a child without him?Do you want to raise a child _with_ him?In the back of your mind, you’re aware that you could quietly terminate this pregnancy without him even knowing.It feels wrong to keep this budding life a secret from him, and even worse to snuff it out without his knowledge.But then again, it’s your body, is it not?All he did was provide a sperm, it was _your_ body that provided an egg and decided to shelter the new cell, provide lodging and nutrients.So, ultimately, shouldn’t it be up to you alone? 

Baby’s gentle cooing breaks you out of your spell.He sounds…upset.Saddened.He knows you’re suffering, you can see it in his owlish eyes.He always knows more than he lets on. 

“I’m sorry, Baby,” you sigh.“I…Mumma’s just…dealing with a lot right now.”You don’t realize you’re crying until you feel a wet tear race down your cheek, falling onto Baby’s tiny little cheek.He lets out another helpless whimper, and wriggles around in your arms.You get the hint-although he adores snuggling in your nests, he’s decided he wants out-you emerge from your nest, pushing some of the blankets away, giving him some room. 

Baby, now free from your arms, looks around the room. _He’s looking for Din_ , you realize. _Baby knows this is a secret_.When the child is certain that Din is still sitting in the cockpit, he turns and waddles towards you, stubby arms stretched out. 

When he reaches you, he stares up at you with his wide, owlish eyes.And then something extraordinary happens: his gaze shifts from your face to your torso.You’re not showing yet, but the child reaches out a three-clawed hand and rests it gently over your belly.He looks up at you, grinning widely, and coos happily.And in an instant, you know that everything is going to be okay. 

-

The child becomes your little confidant.This is extremely effective both because he seems to understand how you’re feeling and because he cannot talk.Din is never going to find out from him. 

When you have moments alone with the child, you ask for his advice.“Should I just…come out with it?Blurt it out and hope for the best?”Baby doesn’t answer (he never does), but he tilts his head and you know he’s thinking the same thing you are: _absolutely not, Mumma_.

That’s another thing.You’ve begun referring to yourself as ‘Mumma,’ as inspired by the friendly nurse at the medcenter.If Din were to ask, you’d say it’s because you’ve become Baby’s honorary mother, but you really know that on some level, it’s because you’re practicing. 

Privately, Din could swoon every time he hears it. _Mumma_ , he thinks to himself with a smile.Although you haven’t said anything, a minuscule part of Din still wonders…could you be pregnant?Maker, he hopes so.He hopes so with every fiber of his being, every cell that makes him up-but he can’t say anything.Because he could just be overreacting and because you’re more than likely not pregnant…but if you are? _Maker_ , if you are then he’s the happiest man in the galaxy and he’s willing to wait patiently until you’re ready to tell him before he can truly being experiencing that happiness. 

If you aren’t pregnant, however, then something is clearly…wrong.You’re still skittish from your hospitalization, and you’ve been nesting daily.Nesting is a normal omega behavior…but sometimes it can be indicative of underlying issues.Traumatic experiences, extreme stress, anxiety, depression, the list goes on.He doesn’t know much about it…but he’s willing to bet Cara would know.

Din’s worry only spikes when he enters his quarters to find you nesting in his cot, the child snuggled up in your arms. You open your eyes and gaze at him, a content smile forming as soon as you see him.You reach out one of your arms, and within minutes Din has joined the two of you in your nest, his worry slowly dissipating as he holds the two of you close to him. 

“Short stuff?”

“Mmh?”

“I need to go back to Sorgan.Figured you and the kid could use a break.”

“Yeah…sounds nice,” you mumble, already drifting off to sleep, reveling in the warmth of your little family. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. I love y'all so much <3 I have a few more Mando x reader ideas in store but I'm not sure if they should be readers or OCs....Anyways, I love yall and I hope yall are staying safe <3
> 
> ...what's gonna happen in sorgan??? we'll see ;)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uwu here we GOOOOOOO
> 
> (also, in this universe heats are every approx every three months as opposed to monthly like a period. keep in mind that every heat is different for every omega and all that jazz)
> 
> I'm so sorry about how long this has taken. I'm not going to lie, I seemed to have lost my motivation for this fic for a little while ago, but I came back and reread your lovely comments, and it inspired me to get right back to work. Thank you all for your patience and for how sweet you all have been. 
> 
> Enjoy!

You wake up to an empty nest, and with an upset stomach to boot. You make your way to the fresher and proceed to vomit as quietly as you can. You've been keeping up the act for too long; Din will only buy your meager excuses for so long. Not only that, but you'll be showing more outward signs of your pregnancy by the time your next heat is supposed to roll around...namely, you'll be showing. That gives you roughly only two months to work with, realistically even less than that. 

The idea of keeping a secret this big for another month at the very least makes you want to start vomiting all over again. 

Flushing the vac-tube, you turn to the mirror and attempt to freshen up, to make it look like you haven't just emptied your stomach. As you climb the ladder leading to the cockpit, you can hear Din chastising the little one. 

"No, ad, let's leave Mumma alone so she can sleep in a little longer," his voice is gentle and hushed, like it was when you first met the green infant. 

You can hear the child whine in response; someone wants his Mumma. 

"Come on, kid," you reach the doorway just as Din settles into the pilot's seat with the child in his lap. "I'll let you steer the Crest if you're good," he bargains, and it must work because the kid happily squeaks. It makes you giggle, and both the mandalorian and the baby are up in an instant. 

"Short Stuff!" He's immediately cursing himself for how obviously eager he seems. "How are you feeling?" he asks, looking you over. "You slept for so long, I-" He composes himself, straightening his back and turning his gaze to his foundling, as if you can see the blush rising to his cheeks. "I was a little worried." 

You beam up at him, taking the babbling green bean from his arms. "I'm okay. Thank you for letting me sleep for so long," you murmur, pressing a gentle kiss to the baby's wrinkly forehead. "Of course, Short Stuff. Seemed like you needed it." _You have no idea._

-

Sorgan is as warm and inviting as you remember it. This time, however, you're much less timid as you make your way down the ramp, baby in your arms. The people greet you warmly, happy to have their heroic mandalorian back once again. Winta rushes past everyone and envelops you in a hug, leading the group of children behind her as they crowd around you and baby (who is happy to be the center of attention). 

"You're back!" Winta squeals as she holds onto you. "We are!" You agree with a good-natured laugh. "We didn't think you would come back so soon!" the little girl exclaims as she releases you. "Neither did we," you admit, giving the baby one last kiss before passing him into WInta's arms. 

"What _does_ bring you back?" Cara asks suspiciously (after pulling you into a crushing hug, of course). You blank, and you hope it doesn't show on your face; Cara notices though, you can see it in the way she narrows her eyes ever so slightly. "We needed a break," Din answers for you, moving to shake Cara's hand. She grabs his hand only to pull him into one of her bone-crushing hugs. "You'll have to tell me about your latest adventures, then," she insists. When the other villagers begin clamoring to hear as well, Mando pipes up. "I need to speak with the shock trooper first." You're faintly aware of Cara muttering "Ex-shock trooper" as she leads him away to her hut. 

Omera hugs you next, and you revel in her maternal-like warmth. "I, uh, actually need to talk to you as well," you quietly admit. "In private." 

Her eyes widen only momentarily but ever the leader, she's able to save face in front of her people while maintaining your privacy. "You must be exhausted from your journey. Let me lead you to your lodging." Her smile is warm and genuine, but you can see it in her eyes that she's worried by whatever you're about to tell her. 

Once the crowd disperses (after plenty of promises to get to know everyone better this time), Omera leads you to her own hut instead, insisting that she brew you a tea to calm the both of of your nerves. 

"That obvious?" You ask with an empty chuckle as she places the mug in front of you. She smiles as she sits across from you. "Only a little. Now," she continues, down to business. "What did you want to talk about?"

You suck in a breath, preparing yourself to say it. You try to force out the words but they grow lodged in your throat, as your eyes begin watering. "I'm pregnant," you burst, breathless. "Saying it out loud makes it so much more real," another empty chuckle. "But, I'm pregnant."

Omera's eyes are wide as saucers and she reaches out to take one of your hands in both of hers as you wipe at your face with the other. "My goodness," she murmurs, and her concern only sends more tears springing to your eyes. "Does the mandalorian know?" You shake your head, your face crumpling. "No, and I haven't told him because I-I just don't know how, and I don't even know if he wants this-"

She interupts your rambling with a calm, quiet, " _Breathe_." You're breathing shuddery in and out breaths as she asks, "How did this happen? You were taking your suppressants-" You shake your head. "I don't know how it happened. I don't know how it even could have happened," you lament. Omera's shaking her head, muttering to herself, "We do have an herbal tea, but, I didn't give you any to drink.."

Then it hits you: Winta gave you a cup and you blindly accepted it. "Oh no," you moan, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes. Looking up and meeting Omera's questioning gaze, you say, "I might have had some on accident. Winta gave me a cup of some tea, she said she sees you giving it to omegas after every heat, and I just thought that, maybe, it was healing or maybe that it would do the opposite of promoting pregnancy, but-" 

You want to sob again but Omera's up and on your side of the table before you can, wrapping her arms around you. "I'm so sorry." Her voice shakes and you know she means it. "I'm so sorry, Winta knows not to give any tea out without me, she must have wanted to impress you. I'm so _sorry_ ," she continues and you interrupt her. 

"Omera, _please_ , she's just a child. She didn't know any better, and I'm not angry at her. I should have asked you about the tea first before drinking it. This is no one's fault but my own."   
  
When she releases you, you offer her a watery smile. 

"Are...are you here to terminate it?" 

A hand instinctively curls around your lower tummy.

"Actually...That's what I really need to talk to you about. I don't know what I want. I don't know what Mando wants. I...I kind of wanted to tell him before I go making any-big decisions." Your voice is small, timid. "I just-what if he doesn't want this, Omera? What if he leaves me here _alone_ with this child?" Omera's arms wrap around you as you begin sobbing again. 

She holds you for a moment, offering quiet 'shh's and 'it's okay's. "I just-I don't know what to _do_!" You can't help yourself as your volume grows from a sob into a wail, and you shouldn't be as surprised as you are when Din bursts into the hut, out of breath. 

-

"Okay, Buckethead," Cara teased as she took a seat on the porch of her little shack, a cup of spotchka in her hand. "What's really going on with you two?" 

Din sighs and turns his gaze away from her, watching the younglings as he spills his secrets to Cara (not that he could have kept them hidden, anyways). 

He tells her of the way the dynamic slowly changed after you left Sorgan, of how you began growing closer yet...not close enough. He tells her about how good you are with the child, how you're teaching him how to truly father his foundling, about how you sing to him when he's fussing sometimes. 

"Things were going...really good." He pauses. "But then..?" Cara prompts him. 

He sighs, "But then, I don't know, something happened. She- _collapsed_ , right in front of me, in the middle of the night." 

Cara's watching him while he watches the floor, her cup of spotchka long-forgotten. She hasn't seen him this distressed up in a long time.

"I took her to the nearest med-bay and the doctor said she was just dehydrated, but she's been nesting every day and night since then and-I'm worried about her, Cara." His hands clench into fists on the small table between them. "I figured you'd know more about this...you knew when we were exhibiting...mating behavior." 

He's not wrong; Cara knows what's going on (at least, she's _pretty kriffing sure_ she knows), but she also knows it isn't her place to say. Instead, she looks Mando in the eyes and bluntly asks, "You love her, Mando?" 

The question throws him off-kilter, and his head flies up at the accusation. He sits there, mouth opening and closing like a fish beneath his helmet, and he's just about to answer when a wave of unease passes over him. Cara feels it too, because her demeanor changes as he does and she sits up, straightening her back. An omega's in distress, the both of you can smell it, and Din is already out of his seat before he hears you wailing and he's running towards you, Cara hot on his heels by instinct. 

-

His chest is puffed and he's nearly prickling with the instinct to keep you safe, protected. " _What's going on_?" He's at your side in an instant, gathering you up in his arms as he all but snatches you out of Omera's grasp. You barely notice just how possessive he's being and you curl into his embrace, hiding your face in his cowl. You can feel both Omera and Cara's gazes on the two of you, and you're grateful when Cara clears her throat and says, "I think you two need to talk." 

-

Din holds you until you calm down. Unfortunately, it takes longer than usual because his kindness only serves to make you cry harder at first.

When you do calm down enough, you suggest the two of you take a walk. The two of you walk past the clearing full of younglings, and it's only seconds before they see him and a few come bounding up to him. 

"Mr. Mando! Can you play with us?" one of them asks. "No, no, teach us to shoot instead Mr. Mando!" asks another. Another one begins begging for a story, and the others realize they'd like a story best too as everyone begins begging. 

Din chuckles and kneels, and if this weren't so pressing, he'd indulge them for the most part.   
  
"I've got to finish walking with my friend first, but I promise I'll make the time for you all afterward." A chorus of 'aww's follows as he rises, the two of you walking away, but your heart is warmed nonetheless. 

"They love you," you murmur with a smile. 

Din shakes his head beside you. "It's only because I helped save their village. They'd be scared of me otherwise." 

You turn to look at him. "What about your people? Are you good with the children in your tribe too?" A part of you knows you're stalling but another part of yourself _needs_ to hear the answer. 

You can hear the smile in Din's voice as he tells you about his people, and the children of his people. 

"Younglings are precious to Mandalorians. There's...not many of us left. We're taught to view younglings and adopted foundlings as blessings." 

You nod beside him and gods, you could listen to him talk for hours; the wistfulness in his voice tugs at your heart and at the corners of your lips. 

"I always make time for them when I visit. I tell them stories, I play with them. When I have the time and the patience, I train with some of them." 

You're beaming when he glances over at you. 

"That sounds lovely, Din. I'd love to see it, if I'm honest," you admit, a hand unconsciously curling around your lower tummy. 

You feel his hand tentatively reaching for yours as he murmurs, "Maybe someday, I'll take you."

"I'd like that," you say, voice barely above a whisper. 

You've reached a secluded spring at this point, and the two of you silently admire the way the water reflects the setting sun for a moment. 

_This is it_ , you think. _Now or never. Do or die._

_"_ Din," you start, taking both of his hands in yours as you turn to face him. "There's...something I need to tell you." You look up at him with those earnest eyes. "I'm listening," he assures, squeezing your hands. 

You take a deep breath. "I...I haven't been entirely honest with you."

His helmet tilts to the side. "What do you mean?" he asks and he wonders if you can hear the hope in his voice. 

"I...I'm pregnant, Din." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hoo hoo hooooooooo doozy time, huh guys???  
> also im ngl.....an alpha din/alpha cara/omega short stuff threesome would be super hot lol 
> 
> BUT ANYWAYS i'm excited for the next chapter and I hope ya'll liked this one!!!! i welcome any and all feedback so Please don't be shy <3 love yall !!!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

_Pregnant? **Pregnant?**_

The word jumps around his helmet as if echoing against the beskar. "Pregnant?" he manages to choke out. 

You nod up at him, biting your lower lip, tears beginning to fill your eyes again. 

"I'm so sorry, Din, I-I haven't known for very long," you begin hiccuping out little sobs and you avert your eyes to the slowly setting sun, a hand coming up to wipe at your cheeks. "But I should have told you earlier, I just didn't know how you'd react-"

You're interrupted as a pair of gloved hands hold your jaw, silently asking you to look into the black t-visor. "You're pregnant with _my_ child, Short Stuff?" He sounds breathless.

You nod, still looking up at him. "I'm sorry-" you begin, but he shushes you, one of his hands leaving your jaw to wipe the tears from your face. "Don't apologize, mesh'la." He pulls you into his chest and you spend a few moments sobbing against him in relief while he strokes your back comfortingly. He rests his chin on top of your head as you calm down, taking shuddery breaths. 

When you speak next, your voice is small and timid. "...What should we do?" 

"What would you like to do?" he chokes out. "Whatever you want, mesh'la, I'll support it." 

You're silent for a moment, watching the sun as it begins its descent beneath the horizon. "I want to keep it. If you don't want that, I-"

You want to tell him that you'll understand. Bounty hunting is dangerous, and you’ve found yourself worrying whether Din has survived on his longer hunts enough as it is, you can't imagine what that'll be like months from now, when you're heavily pregnant. You want to tell him that he doesn't have to be involved in this child's life if he doesn't want to be, that you can handle being a single mother. It would hurt without your alpha, but you could do it. You could even stay here on Sorgan and raise this child. 

But you don't say any of that. You don't get the chance to, because he immediately interrupts you, saying your name.   
  


“ _ **No**_ , Short Stuff, I-“ he makes a choked off sound, and you realize for the first time that he’s also crying beneath the beskar. “I want... _more than anything_ , I want to do this with you...if you want to.”   
  


He says this so quietly you can barely hear him, and you pull away to look up at him, the last of your tears dripping from your chin.   
  


“I want to.”   
  


You hear a teary laugh from beneath the beskar helmet and you smile, looking into the black t-visor with watery eyes.

-

The two of you stay there, sitting on the smooth stone and watching the last of the sunset together. You ache to reach out and hold his hand at the very _least_ , but the two of you keep your distance. You know he must be struggling with the same things you're struggling with right now. How will this change your relationship-can you even call it a 'relationship,' or is 'arrangement' a more appropriate label? You certainly enjoy spending time with the alpha, and you know he enjoys your presence as well. But introducing a youngling into this? It'll only serve to complicate things. It isn't that you haven't wanted to be a mother, for stars' sake, your relationship with Din's green foundling should be proof enough that you want children. But...part of you is willing to admit that this isn't how you pictured it. 

To father this alpha's child, without having been marked by him? Without sharing a soulbond? Does he not want you? Will he truly love his child and only tolerate you? Does he not _want_ you as a mate? The thought steals your breath and you have to calm yourself down as you feel the very beginnings of tears pricking at your eyes. 

You rest a gentle hand over your torso, where the little one is still hiding. You fail to notice the way Din's helmet _ever so slightly_ moves to watch, only to move back to the treeline where the sun had been only moments ago. 

Din could spend hours beside you like this. Well, almost like this. He'd rather be closer, holding you, cradling you and your growing child. But he feels the need to give you some sort of space, some sort of distance. As if worried that your decision hasn't truly been made, that you're still considering whether to keep this child- _his child_ \- or not. But then he catches your movement in his peripheral vision, and he turns just in time to see you cradling your unborn child, and it melts away _instantly_ when he remembers that you- _you_ -are mothering his child, that he's going to be a father. 

He realizes then and there that he wants-no, needs-to marry you; to recite the three Mandalorian vows with you, and to keep true to them. It's then and there that he realizes that he wants to choose you as a mate, and to be chosen by you. 

The thought is overwhelming and he finds himself drowning in the truth, silently gasping for air. 

He stands abruptly, startling you. 

"We should head back, Short Stuff," he murmurs, holding out a gloved hand for you. You look up hesitantly and take it, hating the leather of his glove for the barrier it becomes, for the barrier it represents. 

The walk back to the village is quiet. The people greet you with sincere albeit wary smiles and timid waves. "Looks like everyone has put two and two together," you whisper up to him with a nervous, breathy chuckle. "Just wait until they find out who the father is," he whispers back, and it's enough to throw your head back and gleefully laugh, relieved at the reminder of his presence and his partnership. 

"Let's find baby and get something to eat, hm?" you ask looking up at him with tired, earnest, and loving eyes. 

Din doesn't even notice that he's agreed to what you've asked of him. How can he when you're gazing at him with those eyes? 

-

Dinner is...interesting, to say the least. 

You're able to sit out by the fire unlike your last visit, but your Mandalorian in shining beskar is seemingly unable to let you alone, even to feed the foundling. "I've got him," he gruffly insists, shoving twice as much food into your lap than last time when you reach for the strange, green child. "Mando, I can't finish all of this," you insist with a smile, watching him feed his foundling. "Try," he replies, not even turning to look at you. You turn to Cara with an amused look in your eyes, only to find her as serious as he is. "He's right," she grunts out, just as sternly as he does. 

Omera gives you a sympathetic smile and she scoops a third of the serving off of your plate (even when Din's shining helmet whips around to give her a faceless warning). "Trust me alphas," she affectionately chides. "There will come a time when she's able to eat this much. Until then, as long as she's getting enough rest and taking the new supplements her doctor gave her, she will be fine." 

Cara raises an eyebrow at this but silently sips at her spotchka while Din grumbles something under his breath. You shoot Omera a grateful glance and mouth 'thank you' at her, to which she nods. "I remember when I was pregnant with Winta," she reminisces as she sits across from you (there was no way either Din or Cara would have given you enough room on the log for Omera to sit beside you right now, despite her non-threatening presence). "When we first found out, half of the village wouldn't leave me alone." Her eyes are warm as she relates this to you. "And don't even get me started on her _father_ ," she gives an exaggerated yet good-natured eye roll, and you laugh despite the way Din's shoulders tighten beside you. 

In this moment, all is well. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for how short this chapter is....I wanted something short and sweet and I also just didn't want yall to have to WAIT any longer!!! I'm working on the next chapter already and may I just say....i hope yall enjoy dramatic irony bc mama's gonna SHOWER yall in it


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s finally here :O
> 
> Thank you, everyone, for how sweet and supportive y'all always are :.) I reread and reread y'all's comments every time I sit down to continue. It means the world to me. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy the latest chapter!

The night ends in a blur. Multitudes of villagers approach your strange little family offering their congratulations. You accept each one with genuine gratitude, clasping hands with them and reveling in their genuine joy for you. Din accepts the onslaught of congratulations with solemn nods, and you're half-convinced that if you could see the face beneath the beskar helmet, he would be smiling smugly, proud to show you off. 

After some time, Winta approaches you, Omera holding her hand. She hiccups her way through an apology, absolutely breaking your heart.

" _Hc_ -Mama told me what ha-happened and how it's my fault, and I'm so _sorry_ -" Her eyes scrunch up with tears and she brings a little fist up to wipe them away. 

You rush forward, enveloping her in a hug, quietly shushing her comfortingly. "It's okay, Winta, I'm not mad at you," you insist. Her little hold on you tightens. "But it's my fault," she nearly wails. "It isn't," you insist. "You didn't know any better. _I_ should have asked your mother about it. We aren't mad," you insist once more as you pull away from the hug. 

She sniffles, wiping at her face again. "You promise?" Her eyes are wide and her voice is small, and you can feel your maternal instincts creeping up on you again. 

Din kneels down, making himself eye to eye with the little girl. "We promise." 

Her hiccups begin subsiding, and the little green child waddles towards her, looking up at her with big eyes and a happy chirp.   
  


"See," you say with a smile. "He promises too!" 

Winta smiles and gives a watery giggle, leaning down to pick him up. 

"You know," Din continues, voice modulated by the helmet. "The child and I were just about to go on a little walk. You, uh, you wanna come with us? If your mother says it's okay, of course." He raises his t-visor to Omera's gaze and Winta's head whips around to silently ask for permission with her wide eyes. She gives it, of course, with a warm smile and a nod, and you're left smiling to yourself as you watch Winta lead Din away by the hand. You don't miss the way she pulls him and the way he complies easily, nor the way your heart leaps at the sight.

You're roused from your thoughts as Omera takes Din's seat beside you on the log. "I insisted that she didn't have to apologize tonight at the fire," she says almost apologetically. "I was sort of hoping she would wait until she could get a private moment with you." 

You chuckle good-naturedly, taking a sip from your cup. "That's alright. The poor thing looked like she was going to burst if she didn't get it off her chest.”   
  


From beside you, Cara huffs a chuckle into her cup of spotchka. “Tell me about it, Squirt.”   
  


-

Din allows himself to be dragged by the little girl. Despite her size, she easily leads him where she wants them to go; he can see why she seems to take be the natural leader amongst the children of the village.   
  


Having never been a man of many words, Din struggles with what he wants to say. He suspects that Winta can sense it, because she seems content to wander around with him, his foundling in her arms and his large hand in her little one. He’s still thinking of what to say when she pipes up with, “Hey Mando, how did you know you were an alpha?”   
  


His helmet hides the way he sputters a bit and he stops in his tracks. Is he about to be tasked with giving this kid a sex ed talk? Mandalorians aren’t exactly well-known for their subtlety.   
  
His anxiety is quelled, however, when she continues with, “Before you presented, I mean. I know about all that stuff.” Her nose wrinkles in disgust.   
  


“I...had a vague idea.”   
  
This isn’t entirely true. When he’d begun the very beginnings of his presentation, he had no clue what was going on. Mandalorians, while not subtle, were also quite oblivious, it seemed.   
  


“What...was it-“ She visibly struggles with what she’s trying to say. “Did it hurt?”

”When I presented?”   
  


“Uhuh.”

They stand in the dark watching the foundling chase after frogs in the dark.   
  


“Yes.”   
  


Din struggles; he doesn’t want to sugarcoat it but he also worries about scaring the kid.   
  


“What about your family? Were they happy?”   
  


_I didn’t have one,_ he almost says, but he catches himself at the last second. 

“My tribe was pleased. It’s always a big celebration when someone completes their presentation, even despite how trying it can be.”   
  


“We celebrate here too,” Winta says quietly, almost to herself.   
  


He clears his throat. “Why do you ask?”

”I don’t know...” She trails off. “I...I’m scared I’m going to present soon, and I’m worried I won’t be a beta like mom is...or like dad was.”   
  


Another pause.   
  


“Well, what’s wrong with that?”   
  


She’s quiet for so long, Din almost misses it when she quietly admits, “I don’t want to be a disappointment. M-mama’s not expecting me to be anything other than a beta.”

”...You know, I felt a similar way when I first presented.”   
  


Her head whips around. “You did?” she asks incredulously. He answers with a nod.   
  


“I thought I could better serve my tribe had I presented as a beta instead.”   
  


She sits down, the child sitting in her lap, waving his froggy prize around.   
  


“But now...after having found Short Stuff, I...I understand it.”   
  


Her eyes travel to the ground below them, her brows knit together in concentration. “That isn’t to say that you need to find another half, it’s just to say that...even if you don’t understand it all now, you will someday.”   
  


She nods slowly, processing this information.   
  


“Are...are you afraid of presenting as an alpha?”   
  


Because, gods, if she is, why not ask Cara? Or Valla? Or _any other alpha_ inhabiting the village?   
  


But then Winta shakes her head.   
  


_Oh.  
_

“Then...why not ask Short Stuff about it? She’s more than willing to help, you know-“

Her eyes are full of tears when she looks up at him again. “I’m scared she’s still mad at me,” she admits with a sniffle, wiping her tears away with a fist. “I-it’s my fault that she’s-“ 

She can’t finish her sentence for her tears and even the strange green child (long finished with his frog) looks up at her, his ears lowering sadly.   
  


“Winta, listen to me.” Din kneels to her height, as he did minutes earlier around the fire. “Short Stuff isn’t mad, she wouldn’t lie to you like that. And I’m-“

He pauses, trying to find the right words.   
  


“I feel as if I’ve waited my entire life for something like this. I promise you that.”

Silently, she holds out her hand, and when he looks down, he sees her pinky is extended. 

“Pinky promise?”

-

  
Omera dozes as she waits for the return of her daughter, her head falling to rest on your shoulder. Cara watches beside you, a smug glint never leaving her eyes, especially when you keep glancing towards the tree-line where Din and Winta disappeared into. 

“Waiting on your boys, Squirt?” 

Cara’s voice jolts you from your thoughts and you meet her smug gaze with your own bashful scowl. "They're not-I just want to make sure Winta gets back before I retire to my hut." You jut your chin out defiantly. It's not a lie, but it's certainly not the whole truth either, and you know Cara can see right through you. She opens her mouth to say something, and you find yourself both dreading and hoping for whatever she's about to say, when the trio breaks their way through the tree-line. This time, though, Din is leading Winta back, her little hand in his large one, and the child, who has fallen asleep, is held in his other arm. Your chest grows tight as you watch them approach, and you smile up at your Mandalorian as if he's the reason the sun shines. 

You nudge Omera and she wakes up with a puzzled look on her face before she realizes she's fallen asleep on you, smiling as her daughter leaves Din's gentle grip in order to run back to her Mama. "Have a nice walk, baby?" she asks her daughter, her voice rough with sleep. When Winta nods with a pleased grin on her face, Omera smiles in relief and stands, bidding goodnight to the three of you. 

You wave goodbye and bid them goodnight as Din holds his hand out for you. You take it and bid goodnight to Cara as well, letting your mandalorian lead you back to your shared hut. 

\- 

He puts the sleeping child to bed as you don your sleeping clothes, pausing to look at yourself in the small mirror. You turn to the side, studying the profile of your body. It's too soon to be showing, but you're already on the lookout for any changes that might come your way. Din enters the 'fresher, and you watch your reflection as he wraps his arms around you, crowding you with himself. He's removed his armor sans helmet, and you can smell him beneath the woolen undershirt he wears. Already, the scent has calmed you down, taming your anxiety before it can truly manifest. 

"Don't tell me you're getting self-conscious already, mesh'la?" he mumbles, pressing his helmet against the side of your neck, nuzzling you despite the beskar. 

"Not yet..." you begin, but you correct yourself when you can tell he's giving you a _look_. "...Only a little." 

"You have nothing to worry about," he mumbles, his hands beginning to roam your body. You lean your head back, letting out a sigh, hoping it spurs him on. "Are you sure?"

"Fucking _positive_ ," he growls out, his grip on your breasts becoming rougher. "Gonna look so fucking pretty carrying my pups," he mutters, almost to himself, as he spins you around and easily lifts you over his shoulder. 

  
You let out a giggle as he drops you onto the single bunk. He begins tearing at your clothes, literally ripping your shirt off of you and tying it into a makeshift blindfold over your eyes. The tell-tale hiss of his helmet being removed makes your pussy throb, especially when his kisses and nips begin traveling down your body, until he reaches the apex between your thighs. 

He spreads you open with his thumbs, letting out a growl of appreciation at the sight of you, dripping and open just for him. "So _perfect_ ," he mumbles as he dives into you, devouring all you have to offer him like a starved man until you can't take anymore.

You sob his name, pulling at his thick, slightly curled hair and begging for what you need. He gives it to you in one swift thrust, covering your mouth to muffle your screams of pleasure. "Quiet, omega," he grunts out as he sets a punishing pace. "Gonna wake up the entire village if you don't keep that-that pretty little mouth shut," he taunts with a nip just below your ear. "But I bet you'd like that," he continues breathlessly. "Bet you'd like letting everyone know who you belong to." You whine against the palm of his hand, nodding your agreement. 

He grabs your chin in his rough hand, slowing his pace. "And who _do_ you belong to, little omega? _Tell me_." He grinds himself into you, fully sheathed within your warmth. You sob out, "You, Din, you, you, I belong-" but you're interrupted by your own gasp as he pulls out and slams back into you, setting a quick pace once again. " _Tell me_ ," he repeats, growling into your ear. " _Tell me you're mine, little omega_." 

-

He bites your neck when he comes. Not hard enough to leave a mark, nowhere near hard enough to bond with you, and despite the relief of his cum filling you to the brim and of his knot as it begins to swell inside of you, you sob when you come, so _close_ to having what you crave yet so far. 

He collapses on top of you, resting his head next to yours and whispering sweet nothings into your ear while your hands roam his back, rubbing soothing circles into the rough, scarred skin. 

You can still feel the blunt pain of his teeth against your sensitive skin, and although you want much more than he'll offer, you'll take what he's willing to give. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the wait, I hope father figure Din and the short sexy time blurb make up for my absence lately!!!
> 
> I'm working on a series of one shots that take place in the same universe but would have taken away from the overall story if I added them to this so keep an eye out for that if you're interested uwu


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow I am SO sorry for how long this took. I had a rough semester, some personal stuff happened on top of school being entirely online and my adjustment to that & a new living space. hentyways, im back and ready to write some more!!!!!!
> 
> as always, thank you so much for sticking with me and thank you so much for reading <3 love yall !!!

You awake so slowly that for a few moments, you believe you're still dreaming. 

You're on your side, Din's strong chest against your bare back. His large hand is splayed over your belly, along with a little, three-clawed hand. You feel him lean up as he gazes down at his foundling and your unborn youngling. Then you hear him mumble, "Gar vod cuyir o'r ogir, adiik." 

The child lets out a chirp. 

"Ni vercopa bic cuyir a girl, ad'ika," Din continues with a little chuckle. "Nayc rejorhaa'ir gar buir."

You don't know what any of it means but you think better than to ask; you know mando'a is something he's always shared with the child. You wonder if he'll share it with your child. What else will he share with your child? His eyes? His skin tone? Hair texture? What about you? What is he willing to share with you? 

You try to open your eyes only to find you're still blindfolded. Ever the hunter, Din has noticed you stirring despite your attempts to feign sleep. He kisses a trail up your exposed skin, his facial hair scratching and tickling you. "Good morning, Short Stuff," he mumbles in your ear. You smile a dopey grin and return the salutations, your voice raspy: "Mornin, Tin Can." You stretch, letting out a contented groan at the feeling and at the way Din nuzzles into your neck, reveling in your scent. 

His fingertips begin pulling at the blindfold still bound around your eyes and you gasp, squeezing your eyes shut. "Din, your creed," you whisper harshly, as if scolding him for forgetting his way of life. "Just keep your eyes forward," he murmurs into your ear, kissing the shell. 

You let out a shaky breath at the level of trust he's gifting to you in this seemingly small act. His entire creed put on the line for a moment of your comfort, and all he asks is that you face forward. Your eyes fill with tears as you gaze forward.

The child interrupts your reflection with a cheerful little chirp, and you move your gaze down to him, his little claws still splayed across your tummy. "Hey, baby," you mumble, reaching out a hand to stroke at the wispy little hairs adorning his head. He coos, moving his gaze from yours to your belly. "Can you feel them?" you whisper. "Are they doing alright in there, little one?" You move your hand to rest on top of Din's, still splayed across your skin. 

-

Din dons the helmet before he joins you in the refresher. Being on Sorgan, you are given the luxury of time, and you don't intend on wasting it; instead of a rushed shower, you decide to treat yourself to a hot bath. Who knows how long until you'll get this chance again? You scoot forward to make room for him, and he slips into the space behind you, groaning at the warm water, before pulling you flush against him. "I'd give anything to begin each day like this," you mumble as his hands roam around your body, gently claiming you. After a moment, he replies, "I would too." He sounds choked up. 

-

You spend the remainder of the morning discussing name ideas with Winta, although it's less of a discussion and more like listening to her litany of suggestions. 

"I've always really liked 'Hela,'" she suggests, stroking her chin while in thought. "Winta, darling, I'm sure she and the mandalorian will figure it out on their own," Omera gently suggests, glancing at you with apologetic eyes. 

"Well, of course," Winta exclaims. "It's just in case Short Stuff needs some ideas to start out with!" 

You smile warmly and sip at the tea Omera had offered you, waiting for Winta to continue. 

"How about 'Pala?'" she asks. You wrinkle your nose, drawing the cup of tea away from your lips. "You don't like 'Pala?'"

You shake your head. "I grew up with a Pala. She was really nasty." 

Winta nods in understanding, lips pouted and brows furrowed in concentration. 

Finally she slumps over, forehead _clunking_ onto the table. The child, who had insisted on standing on the table, coos and frowns, patting her hair sympathetically with his little clawed hand. 

"Don't worry, Winta," you assure her with a sincere smile. "When we figure it out, you'll be the first to know." She instantly lifts her head, gazing up at you with impossibly large eyes. "Really?" When you nod your confirmation (a glint of amused affection in your eyes), she looks genuinely awed at such a privilege. 

\- 

She stays glued to your hip all day, even refusing to play with the other children in favor of staying with you. You find yourself wondering if it has to do with the talk she had with Din, especially when her mother all but pries her off of you when you leave. Hours after a teary-eyed take-off, you sit with Din in the cockpit as he pilots the Crest. The child is sleeping in your arms, and the silence has stretched on comfortably. His left hand remains at the control panel, while his right rests protectively on your knee, his thumb occasionally stroking the exposed skin.

"Hey, Din?" you ask, voice hushed to avoid waking the child. He acknowledges you with a tilt of his helmet in your direction, a silent _Yes, cyare?_

"What did Winta say when you went for your walk?"

Your anxiety spikes when he doesn't answer right away, and you worry that you've crossed some boundary. Of course, he wouldn't tell you, that was between him and Winta, and whatever she confided in him, it was clearly meant for him and him alone-

"She's anxious about presenting." 

His gruff voice interrupts your internal panic, and you sigh in relief. "Oh," you answer quietly, leaning back in the co-pilot's seat. "That makes sense," you continue, gazing out at the cosmos just outside the window. "Is she nervous about presenting as an Omega?" 

Your gaze moves to the back of the Mandalorian's helmet, watching the stars reflecting off of it as he nods once. You nod back even though you know he can't see it. "That makes a _lot_ of sense," you say again, chuckling this time. "I remember when I first started presenting. I was scared out of my _wits._ " His thumb strokes your knee again, a silent reminder that he's listening, waiting for you to continue. "But my mother, she was nothing like Omera," you continue ruefully. "She was a beta, and she wanted nothing to do with an omega for a daughter. Thought I was a little _whore_." You spit the last word out, bitterness bubbling in your stomach. 

His grip on your knee tightens, protective instincts kicking in, but then it loosens as he thinks of his own mother. "I'm sorry to hear that," he replies after a moment of silence. "Is...is your mother still alive?" Maybe it's none of his business, but if the grandmother of his child is alive, apart of him wants to know. Part of him wants them to know each other, to grasp at a maternal figure although he's a grown man. 

You tense and then relax. "As far as I know, yes." 

A beat of silence. 

"Would you like to see her? Make an amends?"

You shift, uncomfortable. Although, you're not sure what you're more uncomfortable at: the idea of seeing her again or the idea of never seeing her again. 

"I don't know...I don't think she'd want to see me. We left on...a bad note." 

He's silent as he switches to autopilot. "My parents were killed when I was a child," he says abruptly. 

"Oh, Din...I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-" 

He stands and makes his way to the ladder as you speak. 

"to sound ungrateful for my mother or anything like that-"

He descends the ladder and you follow behind, terribly afraid you've offended him. 

You're relieved to find him waiting for you at the bottom of the ladder, as his hands find your waist to steady you as you descend. 

"I know, Short Stuff. I just-" _wanted to talk about it. Wanted to share their memory with you. wanted-_

"Just thought you should know" he finishes. 

-

The silence follows the two of you as you tuck the child into his bassinet, as he undresses for bed and kills the lights, as the two of you shift in your nest. 

"Din?" You whisper against him, feeling impossibly small in the dark next to him. 

"Yes, cyare?" He whispers back. 

"...Tell me more about your parents. If-if you want." 

It feels like minutes before he answers, voice thick with emotion. 

"I've never told anyone about them. Not...extensively."

"I know," you say softly, stroking his bare chest comfortingly. "I figured as much. Tell me as much or as little as you'd like. I'm here." 

He sniffs and takes a few deep breaths before he begins. 

He tells you about his mother. He can remember how beautiful he thought she was, and how much he admired her. How much his father loved her. Like you, his parents were both betas. He tells you about how it feels knowing that his mother never got to see her baby boy grow up, how he never got to see his parents grow old. How he can't remember the sounds of their voices, and how their faces are slipping from his memory. He can remember their eyes. He has his mother's eyes. 'Your children will have them too,' she used to say to him. 'They've been passed down from my side of the family for generations,' she'd told him. 'That and your stubbornness,' his father had interjected lovingly, leaning down to give the both of them a kiss. 

You can hear him crying as he speaks, as he relates aloud what little memories he has of his parents. You urge him to sit up as he cries harder. "You'll wake up with a terrible ache if you go to sleep crying," you murmur to him as you run your hands through his hair, cradling him to your chest. He has one hand on your back, holding you close to him as he sobs against your skin, and another resting lightly over your tummy. Holding onto the two of you as if he's afraid he could lose you in an instant. 

Slowly, the sobs dissipate into slow, uneven breathing. Like that of a child, your mandalorian has exhausted himself and fallen asleep on your best. You scoot back on the cot, resting your back against the pillows and threading your hands through his hair. 

"Thank you, cyare," he whispers, barely audible, as the two of you silently agree to go to sleep. "Of course, Din," you murmur, the pads of your fingers finding the scent gland on his neck and gently caressing it as you drift into sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow got a lil angsty at the end there huh???? im gonna crack Mando's beskar shell like a mf geode. lets dig around in there & get at that emotional vulnerability huh??? I love yall and I hope you enjoyed <3 please feel free to leave a comment & let me know what you liked or didn't like!!!
> 
> Translations:  
> Gar vod cuyir o'r ogir, adiik - Your sibling is in there, little one  
> Ni vercopa bic cuyir a girl, ad'ika - I hope it's a girl  
> Nayc rejorhaa'ir gar bui - Don't tell your mother

**Author's Note:**

> please let me know what you thought! what ya liked, what ya didn't like! I'll update as soon as I can :0 cause I'm definitely gonna make this a series of oneshots at least, and a fully fleshed out series at the most uwu


End file.
